Into The Future
by Zolo77
Summary: What would you do if you woke up in the middle of a different life? Han Solo, young, free and alone, suddenly finds himself in the middle of a family he has not yet created. Set during The Hutt Gambit and sometime after The Crystal Star. If you read, please review.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: George's universe, I just play here._

_AN: This story has been on my backburner for a while. I came up with this particular idea after reading The Hutt Gambit in the summer. This is likely considered AU, although it does follow cannon. If you have ever seen Nicholas Cage's 'The Family Man', you'll see where I got the idea. It's a great movie, if you haven't seen it, you should. Please read and let me know what you think! I'll post another chapter asap. :)**  
><strong>_

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><p><strong>Preface;<strong>  
><strong>What would you do if you woke up in the middle of a different life?<strong>  
><strong>Would you run from it? Would you embrace it?<strong>  
><strong>What would you do if you were returned from that life?<strong>  
><strong>Would you hunt it down, or would you forget it ever happened?<strong>

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><p>The old woman watched the young man walk away.<p>

The young man with the future.

The future he didn't believe in.

The old woman closed her eyes and thought of that future and of that young man.

**xXx**

Lando's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Crazy old hag." Han muttered again for what had possibly been the twentieth time since they had been accosted by her earlier that evening.

"Love over money huh? Romantic." Lando threw him a sly smile.

"Yeah right, that sounds like me, a lovesick whelp." Extending his hand Han pushed through the door into the smoke-filled tavern, air thick with the distinct smell of mixed species and alcohol.

Hours later, he made his way through the alleyways, stumbling back up the stairs to his rented room. Boots thudding against the wall as he kicked them off one at a time, he tossed his jacket over the chair in the corner. Making his way to the fresher, shedding clothes as he went, he stopped at stared at himself in the mirror above the sink, murky inconsistent lighting of the fresher unit casting sharp shadows across his face and torso, making the scar on his chin cut harshly against his features. "_More will you do for love."_ The old woman's word rang in his ears like a curse, a warning, a vision of his future. He shook his head, splashing water on his face.

The springs creaked unhappily as he collapsed onto the bed, head spinning, eyes closed. "_Much will you do for money." _Well that part was true enough, but love? Again? He squeezed his eyes shut further. _No_, he thought firmly. _Solo_.

As he drifted off to sleep, the voice of the old woman echoing through his thoughts, he wondered, abstractly, if that kind of love even existed, and if it did, how was he supposed to find it.

**xXx**

Nothing had happened, but something was very, very wrong. Panic roared inside him. His hand shot to his thigh, groping around for his blaster, nothing, expanding his search his hand reaching around under his head, nothing. As his mind began to focus, he realized not only did he not have a blaster, he was also naked.

A quick scan of the room did nothing to alleviate his confusion. Large and quiet with a wall of auto dimming transparasteel currently on Privacy Mode to his left, white, clean walls, stretched around him, reflecting what small amount of light the window allowed, cutting dark outlines of art hung around the room.

His attention was grabbed by the sudden billow of steam rushing out as the door closest to him slid open. A small figure stepped through the cloud, wrapped in a white towel, damp tendrils of hair cascading down her back. She offered him a steady smile as she walked past him, disappearing through another doorway. Han's eyes locked on her, on the towel barely covering her still moist body. He couldn't look away, his eyes followed her until the door she disappeared through closed quietly behind her.

Panic set in again, where was he? Who was she? This room was a hell of an improvement from the one he remembered falling asleep in. How had he gotten here? He hadn't gone home with anyone, had he? From what little he had seen of her, she didn't look the spacer bar type.

She didn't belong with someone like him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cautiously, he climbed out of bed, swinging his legs down onto the thickly carpeted floor. A pair of shorts – his, he assumed – were discarded haphazardly near the footboard. Grabbing them, he noticed a photograph, beside a vase of flowers, sitting in a polished metal frame perched on the dresser, the naked fresher woman was in it; tucked into bed, wearing an oversize sweatshirt, laughing as three young children happily attacked her with pillows.

The image made him smile, sadly.

She had young family, and was most likely married, just slumming for a night with a smuggler while hubby was off on a business trip.

The idea made him suddenly angry.

Standing alone in an apartment he didn't belong in, with a woman he didn't know, who would, as of tomorrow morning, not want him to exist, she would forget him. They would move on. He felt dirty. "I need to get the hell out of here," he muttered to himself as he yanked on the shorts, hunting around for the rest of his clothing.

This action was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the naked woman, now wrapped loosely in a long shimmersilk rode of deep purple, freshly dried hair hung across her left shoulder in a long, loose braid. She eyed him; a small, amused smile crept over her features as she moved slowly towards where he was standing. "What are you doing?" she came to a stop a few feet from him, hands quietly toying with the front wrap closure of the robe.

"Getting dressed."

"That's disappointing." She breathed. He said nothing, watching her as she untied the sash around her waist, let it slip across her shoulders, fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles.

"Well, I wouldn't want to leave you disappointed." Flashing a grin, he took a step towards her; she didn't move - although her eyes creased slightly with the words _'leave you'_ - instead, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her forehead into his chest, breathing deeply. It was a familiar gesture, one born out of time, history and, something else, something powerful. This action unnerved him, why would she do that?

Han Solo, though, was not a man to be easily distracted.

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, thumbs moving on their own, sketching small circles across her muscles. He couldn't keep his hands still; it was as if they were possessed with a need to be touching her, feeling her. She sighed again as his large hands covered her back, running up and down the indentation of her spine, tickling her ribs.

Her kisses started then, light and tender on his chest, trailing their way up towards his throat, as he brought his lips to the slope of her neck, she took the advantage, weaving path of kisses across his jaw, nipping at his ear, breathing his name. This was all together too much for him. Grabbing her, he all but flung her on the bed, shed his shorts in one smooth movement and was on top of her. He didn't take his time about it, he was past that, and they were already here.

As he positioned himself at her entrance, thrusting into her in one smooth stroke, he couldn't help but wish he knew her name.

* * *

><p>"Are you okay?" her fingers, which had been lazily tracing nonsense designs across his chest, suddenly ceased their efforts coming to rest across his heart.<p>

"What?" He didn't turn to look at her; instead he let his eyes continue to wander across the ceiling, finding patterns in the swirling plaster.

"You seem... a bit off. Is something wrong?"

"Off?"

"Yeah."

"I'm fine."

"Okay." She murmured, fingers starting their mindless movements again.

"Wait," he placed a hand on hers, squishing her hand flat across his abdomen. "What do you mean, off?"

"I mean, you don't seem like yourself." he released her hand as she started to sit up.

"I'm fine." _Confused,_ he added silently,_ but fine_.

"Han, come on, we have _always _been _very _good with each other. And that-" she pointed between them, "was... I don't even know _what_ that was."

_What the fuck? She just insulted my performance?_ "Look, Lady-"

"LADY?"

"Hey, you came!" her eyes widened, then narrowed, measuring him, angry.

"So did you, that's never been our goal and you know it! If it was, I can take care of myself."

He was stunned, what was her problem? She breathed out a heavy sigh, planted a hand on his chest again, started slowly turning away.

"I'm not looking to fight with you, Han. I just wanted to know if there is something bothering you, that's all."

"Well, now there is." Growling, he glared at the ceiling.

"I just thought, you may have something on your mind, you seemed distracted, distant. I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that."

"Distracted..."

"Yes, distracted. You just don't feel like the man who made love to me this morning, you seem, I don't know, different."

"This morning?" he echoed. _Made love?_ _What_?

"Whatever, you don't need to talk to me if you don't want to, I was just worried. Goodnight."


	3. Chapter 3

Her breathing had finally become even.

Neither of them had spoken again since she had turned from him. They lay together for a long while, just breathing, until at long last, sleep took her. Alone in the dark, Han tried desperately to organize his thoughts, suppressing the overwhelming urge to wake her, grab her, shake her, demand to know who she was, why she spoke to him the way she did, why she looked at him as if she knew exactly what he was.

She expected something from him, that much was clear, though he wasn't sure quite what. It also seemed she expected him to be there in the morning, and since he was in the mood to be honest with himself; he admittedly couldn't find the strength to tear away from her, not yet.

Shaking his head, he rose carefully, as not to disturb her, and padded softly to the fresher door, fumbled around for the light control, he leaned against the cool, white marble wall, eyes closed.

Nothing could have prepared him for the reflection in the mirror. It was him, but, at the same time, it wasn't. The man in the mirror was older, perhaps by 15 years or so, but - without a shadow of a doubt -the man was him.

His hair was shorter, though still thick, greying ever so slightly at his temples. A long-ago healed, triangle shaped scar shone pale, low on his shoulder and any trance of the split, swollen lip he had acquired in the _misunderstanding_ at the bar earlier (that night?) with Lando was gone. Han took a shaking breath, raising his left hand to run through his hair, his eyes caught and locked on the band of silver decorating his fourth finger.

He stared at it for a long while, terrified; as if it would – at any moment – suddenly burst into flames. Meeting his own eyes in the mirror in front of him again, he was assaulted by the unmistakable, haggard voice belonging to a crazy old woman huddled in a darkened alleyway, she screamed at him like a half forgotten prophesy, ringing through his brain. _More will you do for love._ The words were lucid, loud and unavoidable, spoken silently to him, threateningly clear. A witch, she must have been. But to what purpose, why was he here?

His lungs screamed, starved for oxygen, though he found he could not breathe. All he could do was simply stand, staring past the reflection, replaying those six haunting words over and over again, trapping out any chance for other thought.

Finally, he blinked. Tentatively reaching for the ring, tugging it off, placed it on the counter and sunk into a crouch, balancing on the balls of his feet, hand propped against the cool marble surface, concentrating on breathing. After what seemed an eternity, he raised his head staring; eyes level with the edge of the counter, the small offensive silver ring sat gleaming through the dim. Gathering enough strength to stand, turning on the tap, letting the near freezing water run through his fingers.

This was not enough.

Cupping his hands, he splashed handfuls on his face; let it run from his chin, down neck and chest.

Raising his eyes again to the mirror he studied himself, water trailing glimmering rivers across this torso. "Well, at least you age well," he spoke to his reflection, voice quiet, rough, "didn't think you'd stay alive long enough to look like this, did you?" He glanced at the closed door behind him, "Must be her doing," he whispered to no one.

Grasping the ring again, he turned it over a few times in his hand, feeling the weight of it. On impulse he reached behind him, turned the lights up fully, he held the ring in his palm.

There, on the inside curve, in tiny cursive letters, was scrawled the phrase, _I Know._


	4. Chapter 4

_Know_ what?

Right now, he knew nothing, not a Gods damned thing, except that he needed a drink. A very _strong_ drink. He shoved the ring back on his hand. Well, if this was supposed to be his life, his home, it should at least have a well stocked liquor cabinet.

The bedroom door swished open quietly to reveal a landing and a wide curving staircase. Reaching the bottom, he glanced around him, noting a long hallway to his right, with – from what he could see – had four closed doors. To his left was an open sitting area, formfitting couches circled a holocentre, frames sat on end tables, and a collection featuring seemingly random pieces of Alderaanian art decorated the walls. Immediately in front of him was a wide, archway. A kitchen, he guessed. He was almost inside the archway when something suddenly moved in front of him, glimmering in the darkened room.

"Master Solo?" A high-pitched metallic voice startled him, he jumped, hand flying to his thigh again on impulse, and again, he found nothing.

"I am excessively sorry Sir; I did not wish to startle you." The voice came into view, a human sized golden droid. A protocol droid.

"It's fine." He growled. He hated droids.

"May I be of any assistance, Sir?"

"What?"

"Is Mistress Leia in need of anything?" The droid's head tilted, as if to portray concern. Han could only stare at him. Leia? _Leia_! That was her name. His wife name was Leia. He didn't know a Leia. The name was familiar though, he had heard it before – somewhere.

"No. I mean, yes. Leia's fine. I just need a drink." The droid seemed happy with this response and nodded stiffly.

"Very good Sir, if you are not in need of me, I'll power down again."

"You do that." Han turned, waiting for the droid to potter away, before coming to a rest at opening of the long hallway.

He rifled quietly through the cupboards until he found whiskey, he poured himself a glass, a tall glass, put the bottle back and set off towards the sitting room. The lights, set to auto, came on to bathe the room in a soft light. A large glass shelving unit was built into an outcove along the short was littered with frames, cards and small collectables. He toyed with the glass for a minute, looking the shelves over. One photo had him leaning, his back against a railing, and the high tops of Coruscant's buildings behind him, cradling Leia in his arms. She was smiling, so was he. They were happy. There were many more like this one, him and her. Together and alone.

His eyes traveled to another photo, this one of a young boy with piercing blue eyes. The young boy was grinning up at the camera, while sitting in what looked like a gun turret. He was holding an adult headset placed awkwardly over his ears.

Beside it was another young boy, seated beside a young, blonde-haired man playing at a holochess table, ghostly images of monsters moving in front of them. He didn't recognize the young man, but the boy looked just like he did at five years old. The holochess table looked familiar; he peered at it, trying to decide where he had seen it. More than seen it; where he had _sat_ at it before.

The next photo stopped his heart. In it, he was sitting at the controls of a freighter, laughing, with a little girl on his knee. _His_ little girl. She couldn't have been more then three years old. She was reaching forward to grab the yolk, sheer glee radiating from her. It was sweet, but his mind wouldn't focus on that. He grabbed the photo, eyes glued to the control panel his little girl was so desperately trying to reach.

He _knew_ that ship. He had wanted that ship from the first day he laid eyes on her. Could this mean she was _his_? Could the Millennium Falcon really be _his_? Hand trembling, he gripped his glass tighter. He wanted to go find her. Walk around her. Sit in the cockpit, feel the controls. Find out what he had done to her over the years. He had had so many plans for improvements, how many had he done?

Looking up from the photo, he glanced around the apartment, and took a sip of his drink. _Well_, he thought, _That's not the hardest thing to believe. _He would find her tomorrow, he would find his ship.

Han smiled, eyes starting to wander again over the display. He picked up a card, it was a small child's birthday card signed _Happy Birthday Little Jedi! You are so special to us! Love, Mommy & Daddy_

"Jedi?" He asked the card. Wasn't that just a folk legend? Jedi were extinct, if you even believed they had ever existed in the first place. The handwriting was small, cursive, straight; very unlike his quick, slanted scribe.

He stood that way for a long while, holding the card in one hand, whiskey in the other. This was his life. Or maybe this could be his life. He wasn't sure. Sighing heavily, he set his glass down, climbed the stairs and slipped into bed beside Leia. She murmured something, turned towards him, dragging an arm across his chest, she nestled into his shuolder. At least now he knew her name. "Leia" he breathed quietly, her lips turned with the hint of a smile, she did not wake.

It was rather frustrating, he concluded, being a stranger in your own life.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Sorry for the delay in updating. I've had major writers-block on top of being highly addicted to SWTOR for the last few weeks, a bad combo for being in any way productive!_

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><p>He woke up alone. Light poured in through the wall of glass beside him. Slowly, eyes still shut against the growing light in the room, his mind started sorting through everything that had happened to him over the course of the past day. Soft joyful laughter floated into the room. He rolled that sound around in his mind for several seconds, he couldn't place it. Suddenly he sat up, information pounded down on him like falling duracrete.<p>

_Married. _

_Children. _

_Falcon. _

_Future. _

_Falcon. _

_Children!_

_Leia. _

_Falcon_. He launched out of bed, heading to the second door by the fresher. Palming it open, the door slid silently aside.

He let out a low whistle.

He wasn't one to keep up on galactic fashion trends, and apart from noticing what it was covering, women's clothing held no interest for him. But what he did know - was money. And this closet was loaded with it. Dresses made of various silks, leathers and synthetics in every shade hung beside him, shelves of shoes and bags covered the furthest wall, the centre island made of glass had gleaming drawers of jewellery, everything from diamond necklaces and Mon Cal pearl earrings to highend military-inspired men's watches.

On the opposite side, beside a tall built-in set of drawers, hung suits and military uniforms. He pulled one out, studying the insignia. He didn't recognize any of the branding, it certainly wasn't Imperial, except the bars suggested a General's rank. His eyes traveled past the jacket and came to rest of the top of the dresser. His blaster – in its holster – sat waiting.

When he emerged, clothed in black pants and a deep green t-shirt - blaster holstered and strapped to him, from the closet some time later, he was no longer alone. The small figure of his future wife darted around the room, tossing pillows haphazardly back on the bed, while snatching a handheld comm from the nightstand. She saw him and smiled, holding out a hand towards the door.

"Okay, she's up, fed, dressed and ready when you are."

"Who?" She looked at him as if he had gone mad, brows knitting together.

"Jaina - she's bouncing off the walls. I have to run, Luke's already come for the boys, he's going to be dropping Jace by my office after lunch - Senator Opplu has brought his little pet with him again."

Leia stood staring at his confused expression for a moment before shaking her head and moved away from him towards the door.

"You promised her she could help you. She's got her tools. You're still installing those new scanners on the Falcon today, aren't you?"

_Falcon_. That got his attention. "Of course."

* * *

><p>The drill-bit plunged down the pipe, clattering, bounced twice and was silent. <em>Damn<em>. He peered down into the dark hole and let out a sigh. His head was joined a moment later by a smaller one with thick dark brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail.

"Stupid drill." She muttered; the smear of grease on her cheek made him smile. This wasn't really that hard, he mused. The little girl seemed quite content to work beside him, as if she had been doing this her whole life. _Well, she probably has,_ he chided himself. She had sung quietly to herself as she sorted through various fuses and bolts while he had wandered around the ship after letting her lead them to the docking bay. Part of him had felt a little stupid, letting a six year old show him the way to what was supposed to be his ship, but it seemed to please her, and it was a lot easier then having to ask for directions.

They had been working for the better part of the day in a comfortable silence, when Han noticed the docking area slowly starting to clear out as workers made their way back to their homes.

Han glanced up, meeting his future daughter's deep brown eyes. She raised both eyebrows and skewed her mouth to the side. They both looked down into the hole again.

"Okay," Han said, blowing out a breath and with it, a silent string of curses he would never let her hear. "We need a magnet."

"And a string?" Large brown eyes met his.

"That's right."

Jaina glanced around. She didn't seem to know where to find a magnet. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Daddy?" That name, although still foreign, had awoken something in him the first time she had called him that, as she grasp his hand walking through the corridors on the way here, something that – the more he looked at her – made him never want to look away. She was his, maybe not yet, but she was. And until he left, or if he left, he was determined to be the best possible father to her and her brothers, and with that, the best husband to Leia.

"Daddy?"

"Sorry Princess, I was miles away, what is it?"

"I'm not a Princess, momma is." _I call my wife 'Princess'? That's kind of a lame pet name_, he thought.

"Well, you're _my_ Princess." This seemed to satisfy her, she gave him a small smile.

"Daddy, can I try something? Please, I'll be really careful."

"You're not going down there."

"I know."

"Okay, as long as you're careful."

Jaina looked around her, as if checking to make sure no one else was watching, she looked back at Han, he nodded, not sure what he was giving her permission to do. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, her forehead creased in concentration, little hands moved to be in front of her, palms down, as if trying to reach for something invisible. The word _"jedi"_ came screaming back to him. _Right_.

Nothing happened for several heartbeats, Jaina bite her lower lip, then there was a small tremor followed by a scraping from far down inside the pipe. With painful slowness, the drill-bit appeared at the top of the pipe, floated to the left and clattered to the hull in front of Jaina, her face split into a grin that mirrored his. He let out a breath he didn't know he had taken, look from her to the bit, and laughed.

Jaina smiled wider, tongue absently playing with the gap left behind by a lost tooth. "Way to go, Princess! That was great!" She giggled, shrieking a little as Han gently grasped her under the arms and hoisted her to him, small hands wrapping around his neck, she snuggled into his shoulder before abruptly pulling back to look at him, intent, serious and a little worried. "Let's not tell mom, okay?"

"Why not, honey?" he bounce her slightly, trying to diffuse her unexpected tension.

"I'm not supposed to use the Force without Uncle Luke." Something flashed in her eyes, so quickly he almost might have missed it. Fear. What could his little girl possibly be afraid of?

"Okay, it can be our secret." She rewarded him with a wide smile again, and his heart melted.

He knew he probably shouldn't keep secrets from his wife, but he wanted, desperately, to be a part of this life, and now he and Jaina shared something from _now_, something he knew, something he was a part of.

He was in deep, very deep, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: I know, I suck, sorry about the wait._ _Please R&R. _

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><p>"Daddy, when are we going home?" Han looked down at the little girl standing patiently beside him. She had been sitting in the bottom turret "shooting Imps" as she put it, then quickly adding "but don't tell mom I said that" as she ran off, for over an hour. <em>Stang<em>. He must be on track for being the worst father in galactic history; she had been so quiet, he had forgotten she was with him, not to mention he had no idea how to get them home or even what time it was.

"We'll leave now, honey. You hungry?"

"Yeah. Do you think Jacen and Anakin are home yet?" She asked, as she started putting tools in her bag.

_Good,_ Han thought, more names, _Jacen and Anakin. Jaina's brothers. My sons. Jacen and Anakin._

"They probably are. Okay, let's go home," he swept am arm in a grand gesture in front of him, "after you little lady." She smiled up at him before bounding down the ramp and racing across the hanger. Han paid close attention this time; he had to be able to get back here without his young daughters help tomorrow.

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><p>They reached the apartment door, palmed it open and were greeted with mildly organized chaos. The golden droid who had interrupted him last night could be seen setting the large dining table. Leia's voice was coming from the kitchen, seemingly arguing with someone who couldn't be heard.<p>

Jaina kicked off her shoes and dashed down the hall towards her bedroom. Suddenly a small figure crashed into him, clinging to his neck. Han found himself staring into the small, delighted face of his youngest son, brilliant blue eyes bubbled happily.

"You're late." he announced at the same time Leia came around the corner from the kitchen and smiled at him. She was followed by another young boy, his hair rumpled and face sour. He was mumbling something quietly to himself. Leia turned to him, frustrated.

"Jacen! I am not going through this again with you. I said no and I meant it. End of discussion."

"What's going on?" Han asked, setting Anakin down.

Leia's attention stayed on Jacen, "You want a second opinion, fine. Ask your father. Ask him if he thinks it's a good idea for you to get a nexu for a pet."

"He's just going to say no when you say it like that." Jacen shot back at his mother, face reddening with anger.

"Don't speak to your mother like that." _Whoa, where did that come from?_

Leia straightened up and offered Han a small smile. Evidently this argument had been going on for some that moment, the prissy-voiced droid announced dinner ready and Jacen took the opportunity to slink away.

She watched him go, turned to Han and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, I'm tired of saying no. It's all he's talked about all day. Anyway, how was your day? Get a lot done?"He settled his hands on her back, pulling her closer to him, Gods, she's beautiful, "Not as much as I would have liked. Jaina was a big help though. She's a pretty good mechanic." Leia stepped back from him, and moved to follow the children to dinner. "Well, she would be, wouldn't she?"

* * *

><p>"Alright, I'm off." Leia announced as she waltzed into the living area, wearing a knee-length, curve hugging navy dress.<p>

"Off? Off where?" He was aware, vaguely, he was staring at her, in a way that very much boarded on leering. This elected a small smirk from her.

"I'm meeting Mirax and Winter for a drink, I told you, remember?"

"Oh, right." _Of course I don't remember_, he thought, slightly irritated.

"Now, you kids be good. I'll be home after you're asleep, so I'll see you tomorrow morning; we'll have pancakes in bed." She was answered with a chorus of enthusiastic "okays".

Smiling, she bent down to kiss the top of Jacen's head while wrapping Anakin in a tight hug. Releasing the little boy, turning to Jaina, she pulled the little girl to her; Jaina hugged her mother back swiftly, before returning to her bookchips.

Leia then turned her attention to Han, "I won't be too late," she leaned in to kiss him, stopping inches from his lips, she looked into his eyes, humour bouncing in hers, "No gambling this time, Han, I mean it."

He gave her his best innocent look, "Gambling? Me?"

She chuckled quietly at that, kissing him. "It cost me a fortune last time to buy back everything the boys lost to Jaina. I'm serious, no gambling." Jaina overheard this, raising her head from her book, she grinned at them both, "They lost to me, fair and square!" Leia smiled at her daughter, turning back, she shook her head, raised an eyebrow, reached out to trace the scar on his chin, "Now, who does _that_ sound like?" Han could only smile back at her before replying, "We'll be fine, go on, you'll be late."

As the door shut behind Leia, a moment of panic flitted over him, what was he supposed to do with them now?

* * *

><p>The night has gone smoothly, much more so than Han had originally anticipated. The kids were happy to play together until it was ready for them to go to bed. No tears had been shed and no blood drawn. From his limited experience around children, he considered this a resounding success.<p>

Now, with the three of them tucked away in bed, Han took his first chance to wander around the life he would eventually (if all this was to be believed) have. He stopped in front of a door at the end of a long hallway, past the children's rooms, palmed the access and strode in. The lights, set to automatic, immediately illuminated the room in a soft pale light.

An office; his office.

Framed star charts hung on the far wall, behind a heavy wooden desk littered with flimsies and data cards. Frames, identical to the ones in the bedroom, sat proudly on the top corner. Moving around, he saw they were filled with his children, the larger one displaying a photo of him and Leia on their wedding day, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

His stomach gave a sudden lurch. He wanted this. The crazy old woman has been right; there wasn't money enough in the whole galaxy to make him want to give up all of this.

Sitting heavily down behind the desk, he brushed a hand over the items, moving data cards aside as he did so, revelling various pictures the children had obviously drawn him under the glass top of the desk. Surveying the room, he noticed, two large brown wingback leather chairs flanking a cabinet which sat polished and gleaming against the far side wall; topped with expensive bottles of brandy, scotch and whiskey. Several crystal glasses sat glistening beside them.

Rising, he went over to the cabinet, poured himself a whiskey and sat back at the desk, he thumbed the computer consol on, maybe he could find out a little bit about his life...

* * *

><p>It hadn't taken him long and he had to admit he was impressed. There wasn't really anything concrete from before he apparently joined the Alliance, apart from his winning hand which landed him ownership of the Millennium Falcon from Lando, until after his part in the rescuing of Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan from something called the "First Death Star" mere hours after the planet's destruction at the hands of Moff Tarkin and Lord Vader, and also seemed to have played a key role in its destruction.<p>

"So she _is_ a Princess. How the hell do I pull that off?" he asked his whiskey.

He read article after article on his exploits during the war effort, though the more interesting to him were written after the fall of the Empire, during which time it appeared he and Leia had become a couple. They had married on Coreusant, after what seemed to be some sort of media circus involving a pompous looking Hapan prince. He smiled at that thought; he had gotten a princess to marry him over a prince. There was a lot of information and photos surrounding the announcement and birth of the twins, and later on, Anakin.

The more recent articles, however, made his blood run cold. They all surrounded the recent kidnapping of his children by a man called Hethrir, head of some fanatical group call Empire Reborn, who held and reportedly tormented his children for several days. The article went on to describe the event in more detail, but Han couldn't tear his eyes away from the picture of Jaina, tears streaming down her face, tiny hands clutching his jacket, small mouth set in a firm line, eyes wide; huddled in his protective hold as they descended the familiar boarding ramp from the Falcon, just visible behind him was Leia, holding a sleeping Anakin to her like a lifeline, they were followed closely by Chewie holding a very determined, very alert Jacen; his eldest son's face solemn.

Glancing at the date-stamp on the current article, he calculated it to have been just less than four standard months ago.


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: I will be away on holidays (no internet - OMG) until May. So I wont be posting until then. Just FYI, I haven't died or anything. :)_

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><p>"No, honestly, Winter, he's acting very, <em>very<em> strange!" The group dissolved into giggles again. Leia laughed, shaking her head, sending loose curls dancing around her face. "I'm serious. He called me 'Lady'!"

Four pairs of eyes focused on her, stunned.

Meeting for a monthly debrief, as the five of them humourlessly called it, had become a small social tradition Leia had found herself increasingly enjoying. Work topics were strictly banned - instead they tended to stick to gossip, family issues and random stories. Leia's turn to entertain had come after the second glass of wine. Somehow, though, she knew they wouldn't be moving past her for a while. She rarely brought marital problems – not that they had many - to this particular table; she preferred to vent them out in private. This, however, needed a few other opinions.

"And you let him live?" Mirax asked, incredulous, over her raised wine glass.

"What can I say, I think I went into shock. He has _never_ called me 'Lady' before. _Ever_. I asked him if there was something wrong and he went on the defensive. He hasn't done that in, well, years. Not like that, not with me."

"Maybe it was just a pride thing. Caught him at on a bad moment or something?" Iella offered, lifting the empty bottle to catch the attention of a passing serving droid. A replacement appeared almost instantly.

"That's only part of it though. I don't get it. Every time I go near him he acts - I don't know - weird. I catch him staring at me, I mean _really_ staring at me. Like he's trying to figure out what the hell is going on. I keep waiting for him to combust and reveal a droid." Leia sighed. "Take this morning, for instance; Han has had those sensor things on order for the _Falcon_ for nearly two months. He finally told Jaina about it last week and asked if she would help him. She's been bouncing off the walls ever since. Over dinner last night, he told her they would have to get an early start installing them, since it might take a while. I go to let him know she's ready this morning, and he acts like he has no idea what I'm talking about. I had a meeting to get to, so I couldn't stick around, but he seemed, I don't know, out of it."

"Could be stress related. Your family has been through a lot in the six months."

"Maybe." Leia pondered, twirling her wine glass between her fingers.

"You _did_ mention before that he's been over-protective of you and the kids, more so than usual. Maybe this is an extension of that." Tionne offered, refilling glasses around the table.

"But, how is acting like he has no idea who I am being over-protective? He's behaving like he did when I first met him; distant and selfish. As evident by last night." Mirax raised an eyebrow and Winter looked nervous. Leia had to agree with the looks she was getting. This wasn't right. "It's worrying." She finally finished.

Mirax studied her drink for a moment before speaking, tilting her head to the side, "This could be something completely unrelated to you and the kids, maybe something happened when he was on vacation. Did you ask him about it? Han could be just caught up with something else. Just distracted."

The table went quiet, expectant.

"No, not really. After everything that happened, he was feeling really bad about not being around when the kids were taken. I tried not to bring it up. I know he met up with an old girlfriend while he was there. Well, met up isn't the right word… ran into might be more accurate."

"An ex-girlfriend?" Mirax shot a quick look to Iella, which Leia caught.

"Yes, and no; that's not it, I'm sure of it. I've met a few others before and they have never bothered either one of us."

"I don't know, Leia. I think you have to talk to him. I mean, let's face it; Wedge has done some dumb things," this statement elected another round of laughter from the women around the table. "Okay, Wedge has done some _very_ dumb things. But he'd never not be focused on his family, unless something was wrong. _Very _wrong. And you and the kids, you're Han's life. You should talk to him."

Leia had to agree. She needed to talk to him. She just didn't know how.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: I'm back! (and tanned, but that's besides the point.) Please R&R!  
>AN2: A different perspective - let me know if you liked it! dont worry tho, we're back to focusing on Han and Leia again next chapter!<br>_

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><p>Anakin couldn't sleep. Having exhausted his limited arsenal of calming tricks hours ago, all he could really do now is stare into the dark, listening to Jacen's low and steady breathing across the room.<p>

Something was wrong.

He wondered if Jaina had noticed, or if Jacen had sensed the change. Neither had said anything, so probably not. Jaina certainly wouldn't have been able to contain this kind of secret, plus Jacen would have been proud to brag to them if he had noticed it first. _No_, Anakin thought,_ it's just me_.

Flipping onto his stomach, he closed his eyes.

Reaching out with his senses he came across the cool, refreshing presence of his older brother first. Jacen stirred, murmured something about Kinn Bats and turned towards the wall. Skipping across the hallway, Anakin touched the bright bubble of energy that was his sister, shining perhaps a little more calmly now, asleep and safe, but none the less brilliantly. Cautious not to linger, as Jaina had always been a light sleeper - and never liked to be woken up unnecessarily, he continued his search. He stretched out further through the apartment, looking for the warm, loving, familiar energy which had always been associated with his father. A strong presence, although not Force-sensitive, which burned brightest while around his family, the children always found Han easy to pinpoint, even from a distance.

Finally Anakin found him; alone in his office. That in itself was strange. Whenever his mom had gone out before, his dad always sat in the livingroom, half-interested in the smashball highlights, waiting for her to come home.

Yesterday there had been fierce protectiveness and a proud love, now, instead there was an almost equal blend of frustration and confusion.

Anakin concentrated harder, searching desperately for a hint, a clue. Anything that would tell him why his dad, who always took part in their games, always immersed himself in whatever strange and wonderful imaginary worlds the three of them would create, was suddenly a stranger to them.

The answer was both simple and terrifying.

That man was not his father.


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: Wow, two updates in one week. I'm on a roll. Please R&R. ;)_

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><p>Realization struck Anakin like a blow to the chest. His heart constricted and he found he couldn't breathe. Desperate, he clamped down on his feelings, instant protective barriers shimmering around him. He needed to talk to someone, and soon. Did his mom know? She couldn't know, she would never have left them if she did. Panic started to rise inside him, clouding his brain.<p>

A presence tickled the back of his mind, pushing lightly against the shield he held so steadily in place. The effect was instant. His breathing equalized; heartbeat calmed.

A question pushed against him.

Answering with a flutter of alarm, Anakin felt the calm expand momentarily then return back to focus on him.

The question pushed again.

In answer, he pushed one word out towards the question, slowly, still careful to contain the emotional maelstrom inside him.

Tomorrow.

The calm accepted this answer. And still lingering, started to dwindle.

_Okay,_ Anakin thought as he settled back in bed, still watchful. _Tomorrow I'll tell Uncle Luke. He'll know what to do._

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><p>Luke leaned back, settling once again into the oversized woven sofa on his balcony, fingers lightly drumming the arms of the chair.<p>

Anakin's sudden flare of fear had rattled him. Immediately he had reached out towards his young nephew, proud to be met with the barriers he had worked so hard to create with all three of Han and Leia's children.

A quick scan of the other occupants limited the feeling to Anakin alone. Leia was missing from the home, although not far away, surrounded by a few friends at a restaurant several blocks east. Lightly touching on her, he felt nothing amiss. Han was in the home, brooding from the feel of it. Strange but, considering the high stakes game of political chicken he was currently playing with the senate over his role in the New Republic, hardly surprising. Both twins were asleep, calm and safe.

Finding nothing concrete, Luke momentarily had put the young boy's panic down to the missing presence of his mother, thinking perhaps Ani had woken up and not been able to feel her. Although after a bit of pushing, that didn't seem right.

Another flicker from Anakin, this time more determination then fear. It would have to wait, Luke decided.

He let his mind wander again, staring into the distance, he watched the lights of the city around him dance and twinkle in the dark.

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><p>Leia tossed her head back lightly, fuzzy from wine, and laughed again. Winter giggled, still clutching Leia's arm in an effort to stay upright. Mirax's hearty re-enactment of her "I'm pregnant, again" announcement to both Coran and her father Booster, was something the rest of them had waited for all night. They knew the story of course, but knowing it, and seeing her perform it were two completely different things. Of course, Leia knew Coran Horn, Mirax's husband, and had no trouble picturing him making the shocked semi-terrified face Mirax was now mimicking.<p>

"Oh stop. Please, I can't breathe!" Tionne begged, leaning into Iella for support.

Leia tossed her friend a quick smile, "I can't believe you told them at the same time."

Mirax simply shrugged, "It was fine. The best fight they had though was after she was born."

"Oh wow, is that the time? I should go; Han will be worried. Goodnight!" Leia said, as she hailed a hovercab, pulling out her comm.

"Call me this weekend, okay? Let me know how everything is." Winter answered anxiously as her friend of almost 30 years folded herself into the backseat of the cab.

"I will. Bye." Leia offered a smile and the cab tore off. She punched in a series of codes to reach Han's private line, sending him a message she was on her way and relaxed slightly against the stiff, fake leather bench. The ride was quick, within minutes the cab pulled up in front of her building. Leia scanned her card and stepped out after a quick glance around - a habit, she often mused, which must have picked up from Han.

Leia smiled to herself as she crossed the foyer, heels clicking on the golden New Republic insignia engraved in the floor. She wasn't drunk, but she certainly wasn't sober, and Han had always been very _fond_ of not-sober Leia.

This could work out to be a _very_ good night indeed.


	10. Chapter 10

_AN: Again, sorry. Life seems to be getting in the way. I promise I will finish this. Just bear with me. :) If you read, please review. :)  
><em>

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><p>Leia took a moment to compose herself before she keyed the door to their apartment open. Alcohol always had a way of making her rather giddy. And while she didn't necessarily want that snippet of information widely passed around, it did serve as a good excuse to behave exactly the way she wanted to within the privacy of her own home.<p>

The door opened quickly and she strode through, with slightly more grace and drama than she could have anticipated. Without kicking her shoes off, she sashayed past the darkened livingroom; tossing her shawl over the back of the nearest chair as she passed, clutching the silky evening bag under her arm.

The stairway leading to their bedroom was dark; not lit in the typical fashion, which was disappointing, but not totally unusual. It most likely meant Han was in his office, ordering some obscure – and illegal – part for the Falcon.

She made it as far as Jaina's bedroom door before her comm went off. Desperately trying to silence it, she back-stepped into the light of the kitchen doorframe.

The tiny bright blue screen flashed at her, she squinted - trying to focus.

_Luke. _

"Seriously?" she muttered to the offending blinking light. She toyed with the idea of answering only to tell him to go away. Luke may have nothing better to do then sit around and ponder the mysteries of the Jedi, but she did.

And she was going to find him.

Shaking her head and letting out an exaggerated sigh, Leia hit _Silence_ and tossed the still blinking object over her shoulder into the livingroom – not at all caring where it landed – and started past the children's rooms again. She touched each one of them lightly, letting their calm and quiet wash over her, feeling any irritation from Luke's impromptu call slip away.

She came to a halt in front of Han's office and without knocking, let herself in.

There she found him, his back to her, seated in one of the large leather chairs; the floor around him scattered with data cards, flimsies and pictures.

Memories.

Everywhere.

Some his, some hers. Some theirs.

A tumbler of amber liquid sat forgotten on the desk, ice long since melted, tiny droplets of condensation creeping slowly down towards the glass surface.

Stepping in from the carpeted hallway, heels clicking on the gleaming wooden floor; announcing her presence.

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><p>Han straightened and turned, staring at her silently. He watched as she moved towards him, placing her bag on the desk as she past.<p>

Picking her way, carefully, across the battleground of memorabilia he had all but devoured that evening.

Tokens of their life together – lay surrounding him like an asteroid field. Evidence of an existence he didn't yet have. A family he hadn't yet created with a woman he didn't yet deserve.

She came to an abrupt stop in front of him; eyes slightly glassy, feet placed slightly wider then necessary and smiled.

"General." She exhaled slowly, twirling his title over her tongue expertly, as if this was a game, and she a frequent player.

"Princess." His answer was husky, rough. His mind fogged, everything fading around him until she was his only focal point.

He gazed at her for several moments, wildly trying to commit her to memory. Desperate to not awaken from this dream. Frantic not to forget, to not move on from here, terrified to not remember her, remember them.

"You look as though you have had a good night." Her voice reached out, cutting through the fog towards him, snapping him back.

"So do you." He recovered, flashing her a grin.

"I have. But, I am willing to wager it is about to get better." She replied, lifting an eyebrow in challenge.

Han stood - data cards falling to the floor, forgotten and now, unimportant - reaching out, circling her waist, hands resting tightly around her.

"So am I." He breathed and bent to kiss her.


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: DuhDuhDuh!  
><em>

_AN2: See, told you all I was working hard on this... If you read, please review. :)  
><em>

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><p>"I love you." He whispered in fascination. Her eyes opened then; warm, brown. She smiled, scooting closer to him. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he somehow wasn't able to contain the words anymore. They came out as a rather bewildering, amazingly true statement.<p>

He was in love with his wife. Though she wasn't his wife yet and he didn't even know her.

But still he loved her.

"I know." Leia sighed and pressed herself to him in an effort to retain the intimacy they had found together last night. He gathered her to his chest, burying his face into her hair, breathing in the strange yet familiar scent he had come to crave over the last forty standard hours with this remarkable woman.

"What time is it?" She asked quietly, almost dreading the answer. Han looked around for the chrono, and replied it was only 0830.

Leia untangled herself from Han's tight grasp, sprang out of bed and danced across the room, yanking an bulky sweater over her head while grabbing a pair of sleep shorts from the dresser.

Han sat up, groggy, and raised his eyebrows at her. She tossed a tshirt and sleep pants at him.

"Hurry up." She laughed as he watched her hop towards the door pulling the shorts on. "The kids will be up by now."

"Oh Gods." Panic filled him again. He wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but getting dressed - quickly - seemed an appropriate first step. Leia opened the door and spoke softly to someone out of sight. Tugging the sleep pants on, he could hear young voices giggling happily and small feet pounding up and down the stairs. He had gotten the shirt on by the time the twins burst into the room racing, towards him, piling on the bed, wrestling playfully.

As she rounded the kitchen archway, contentment filled her. This was the way her life should be always. Sure, Han was still acting a little strange, but last night was worlds better then the night before. So maybe he was just having an off day yesterday. Picking up the tray she headed back upstairs, musing.

Leia couldn't decide what her favourite part of the kitchen was; the caf machine or Threepio. Han never had anything nice to say about the droid, but he did come in useful more often than not. Pancake mornings had been rather unruly before Threepio stepped in. Leia had never been much good in a kitchen, even the kids knew to be watchful of her in that particular part of the home, so she was happily relieved when she discovered several months ago that Threepio could be entrusted with preparing her family's most sacred tradition: pancakes in bed.

Ascending the last stair, balancing the breakfast tray laden with food, utensils and juice, she smiled at the scene in front of her. Today seemed normal. Perhaps Han was really okay, maybe it was just stress.

As she walked into the room, Jacen greeted her enthusiastically from his perch in the centre of the bed, while Jaina was immersed in teaching Han a new secret handshake she had created with Jacen earlier that morning. Stopping just long enough to grab the tray, Han held it for her as she crawled into bed beside him again, snuggling into him, tucking her cold bare feet under his legs.

"Anakin? Come on sleepy! Pancakes are ready." Leia called, arranging the tray at the foot of large bed. _Strange_, she thought, as she watched the twins stack small pebble-sized pancakes onto a fork in order to see how many Han could eat at once. Anakin loved pancake mornings, he was always the first one up.

"Anakin? Are you okay?"

A small figure appeared at the door, fully dressed, clutching Leia's discarded comm-link to his chest tightly, eyes moving back and forth between his parents.

The twins halted their game, watching their little brother, confused.

"Come here buddy, Daddy has pancakes for you." Leia soothed, attempting to quell the tension building up inside her little boy.

Anakin's face contorted then and he shook his head violently.

"No!"

"Anakin-" Concerned, Leia pushed the covers aside, preparing to stand up. Han's eyes were riveted to the small boy in the doorway, Jaina's hands clutched tightly to the front of his shirt while Jacen shifted uncomfortably and slide closer to his sister.

"No!" Anakin repeated again and held up a small hand, pointing directly at Han. "That is _not_ my _Daddy_!" Anakin screamed.


	12. Chapter 12

_AN: If you read, please review. :)  
><em>

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><p>No one breathed.<p>

No one moved.

All eyes locked on the grimly determined face of Anakin. His mouth set in a firm line, blue eyes burning into Han's face, small hand – still pointing – trembled faintly.

"Anakin." Leia breathed, voice horrified and embarrassed. The young boy shifted his gaze to his mother, eyes starting to brim with large tears. "Why would you say that? You apologize to your father, right -"

"No." Han cut in quietly, looking from the small boy to Leia. "He's right."

Jaina's hand, which had been gripping onto the front of his shirt since her youngest brother has appeared, sprang open. Jacen shifted away from him towards Leia and tears now tracked large and wet down Anakin's cheeks.

Leia stared at him, hands shaking, mouth dry. She extended herself as much as she could, seeking, searching; looking for any hint of malice, of danger. Nothing. She found only exhaustion, confusion and frustration where there should be love, protection and a deep respect, born from years of being together. She licked her lips, and fought to keep her voice even. "Jacen, take your brother, Jaina go with them. I'll be right down."

"But, Mom-"

"It's okay, Jace, can you do that for me, please?" Jacen nodded, slid off the bed, grabbing his sister's hand while glancing warily at Han. Leia shut the door behind them and braced herself against the wall. Han stood, it felt suddenly wrong to sit in that bed as if he belonged there. They stayed, in a standoff, staring at each other for several long seconds. Until Han broke the silence first.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't understand. Are you sick? What's happened to you?" She whispered, desperately trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

"It's still me, Leia."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's a long story."

"Then talk quickly." And he did. He told her everything he could remember, the crazy old woman on the street, the bar he went to with Lando, the altercation he got into that night, the grungy hotel he fell asleep in. "And then I woke up here. With you." He finished finally, gesturing to the bed. When Leia didn't reply, he went on, throwing his hands in the air, making her flinch slightly. "She must have been a witch. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know who you were, or the kids. I even look different!" Dropping his hands, he waited, breathing ragged.

"Okay."

"I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy, but I swear it's true."

"Okay." Leia repeated, closing her eyes briefly. "So, if it true and _you're_ here, then, where did _you_ go?"

"I don't know. Maybe we switched. I can't think of any other explanation. I can't imagine he – I – your husband, I mean, would be very happy about that. I don't have anything and he has all of this," Han swept his hands wide and locked his gaze on Leia. "He has you."

Leia nodded, exhausted, and moved to sit down on the foot of the bed; pancakes still sitting on the tray behind her, forgotten and cold. Han moved slowly towards her and sat down, extending a hand to touch her arm.

"Hey, Honey-"

"Don't." Leia snapped, yanking her arm out of his reach. "Don't call me that. You've never called me that. That's what you called _her_."

"What? Who?"

"That tall redheaded bitch. Don't you dare call me 'Honey'!" Leia glared at him, understanding her anger was invalid, yet unable and unwilling to clamp down on it. Han stared at her, mouth slack, eyes narrowed, calculating.

"You know about Bria?" He finally asked.

"Of course I know about Bria." Leia stopped her tirade and studied the man beside from her. If she didn't believe him before, this confirmed it. This man was _not_ her husband. "Do _you_ know about Bria?"

Han continued stared at her, dumbfounded. "Do I know what? What happens to Bria?"

"Oh nothing, she's awesome." Leia shot back, running a hand over her face.

"Mom?" Three small figures stood in the doorway, faces scared, eyes wide and staring. Jacen took the silence as an invitation and stalked into the room, bravely standing beside his mother, facing Han.

"You're not my dad." He stated.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm not."

"Why are you here then?" Jacen demanded. Han took a deep breath and glanced over at Leia. She was crying, silently. This one he would have to handle alone.

"Well, you see; you're dad's a great guy," Han paused, as all three children nodded slowly. Han nodded as well and continued "and he loves you all very very much. And well, you see, I was sad and really lonely, so you're dad - being the great guy that he is - tried to cheer me up by letting me come see you guys for a while. He'll be back; he had to go take care of my life while I was gone." Han held his breath for several long seconds, watching the children intently.

Jaina took an awkward step towards him. "What do you do?" She asked, timidly.

"I'm a smuggler." Han answered, taking a chance on the kids knowing what that meant. The little girl's face broke into a wide smile, eyes brightening immediately. "My dad was a smuggler! He still does it sometimes." Jaina clamped a small hand over her mouth and looked quickly up at her mother. "Secretly." She added.

Anakin was next to come forward through the door, tiny hands still wrapped absurdly around the comm-link. "Is my dad coming home?" he asked, voice hitching.

"Yes, of course he is and very soon." Han replied, softly.

Jaina took another brave step forward. "Can you make cookies?"

"Cookies?" Han asked, looking over again at Leia, who was in the midst of attempting to control her silent crying.

"Yeah," Jaina continued. "Our dad makes us cookies."

"Sure, I can do that."

His future daughter measured him up silently for a few seconds before nodding.

"Okay."


	13. Chapter 13

_AN: Mmm.. wonder what "Other Han" has been up too... If you read, please review. :)  
>AN2: A warm thank you to my wonderful betas, AmaraZ &amp; Leapylion3. You guys rock.<br>_

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><p>It was early. Very early.<p>

The smell of musk hung in the air. Obscure ground level traffic noise drifted into the small room. An unnatural glow from soiled security lights outside the building streaked across his face.

With a half-hearted Corellian curse to the never sleeping city, he murmured something about broken privacy glass. Extending his arm, he reached through the maze of rumpled, cold sheets, searching for her. His hand found nothing, but his search continued, stretching out his left leg, eager to gather her to him, to warm her, to hold her.

Nothing.

Eyes still pressed stubbornly shut, he strained his ears but heard no sound from the fresher unit. He hadn't felt her leave or couldn't hear the children downstairs. _Strange_.

Grunting, he rolled over onto his back, pushing an arm under his head. Something cold and metal bumped his hand. He grabbed the familiar grip, pulled it out from under him and staring at it, bewildered. How long had it been since he has slept with a blaster under his head? Not since the twins had come back from Anoth; not at home, safe in bed with Leia.

_Leia_.

_Where was she?_

Dropping the blaster to the floor, he sat up, eyes expecting the familiar bedroom he had shared with his wife for almost ten years.

One with white, wide walls on which hung framed Alderaanian art, an extensive collection he had been able to acquire for Leia over the years.

A dresser topped with a framed photo he had taken of Leia and their children one morning she had over-slept and forgotten pancakes. They had happily - on his recommendation - formed an offensive task force and attacked her gleefully, pummelling her with pillows.

And hidden in his top drawer there should be the small, ragged stuffed bantha, a toy which had belonged to Jaina, until one day she announced that she was too old for it and didn't need it any longer. Han had rescued it from certain doom and endured minor good-hearted teasing from Leia for his successful mission.

Instead, he found nothing familiar. Nothing clean and good greeted his gaze.

Staring back was a rundown room, possibly a hotel; a mess of belongings which didn't belong to him littered the floor. Data cards identified in his untidy font sat on the table beside him. No indent on the pillow on the other side of the bed. No Leia.

The cold crashed down around him. Settled deep in his bones, an old familiar feeling started to creep over him.

He was alone. He pushed away the absurdity of the reality surrounding him; he had fallen asleep at home to the sound of Leia singing softly in the shower. He_ couldn't_ be alone.

Running a palm over his face, he winced, inhaling sharply.

Somewhere in the nightstand, a comm-link buzzed. Han lurched for it, knocking over random empty bottles and data cards in his haste. A small blue screen bleeped unhappily, displaying no name, only a code series he vaguely knew.

"Solo." he answered, rising from the bed, stumbling over mounds of discarded clothing, bags and boxes, heading for small fresher across from the room.

"Han. It's Lando. Where the hell are you?"

"I... I actually don't know." He answered honestly, voice hoarse, taking another glance around the room.

"Yeah? You still with that brunette from last night?" Lando's voice jumped as the comm frequency was interrupted.

"What?" Han asked, not really paying attention, instead, examining his throbbing, swollen, blood crusted nose in the murky light of the fresher.

"She was cute, but I prefer blondes." The crackled voice over the comm replied offhandedly.

"I think my nose is broken." Han muttered, disbelieving, leaning closer to the mirror. "Leia's gonna kill me." Han added, ignoring his friend completely, setting the comm down next to the sink running his thumb up and down the ridge of his nose gently.

"Was that her name? Pretty. Look, buddy, we really should get out of here. Chewie has the _Falcon_ prepped; we're just waiting for you." Silence answered Lando. The comm cracked a few times before Lando's worried voice called again. "Han?"

Han couldn't answer, wasn't able to speak. He raised his left hand and stared at it.

His wedding ring was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

_AN: Just wanted to give a huge shout-out to all the wonderful readers of this story, I have been very surprised by the positive response I have gotten and so very happy there are people who are enjoying it as much as I do! Thank you! And another huge thank you to my Betas - Leapylion3 & Amara Z._

The last month was rather rough, for numerous reasons I won't bore you with, so I do apologize for the wait.

_And, as always, if you read, please review. :)_

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><p>Leia sat, unmoving on the bed, staring out the door of the bedroom she had shared with her husband for almost ten years.<p>

She closed her eyes, twisting her wedding ring slowly around her finger, listening to the twins chattering happily downstairs introducing the newly discovered stranger to every tiny aspect of their lives. They had pulled Han out of the room with them, fascinated by the extraordinary twist their day had just taken. Anakin had stayed. Watching his mother from just inside the bedroom door, riveted to the spot from where he had asked his one terrifying question to a familiar looking stranger. Leia pleaded with every god she had ever heard of that this man was right in his assumption. That _her_ Han would be coming back. And soon.

Last night felt like years ago. The heels she had worn out for drinks with her friends still rested where they had been playfully discarded as she had moved through the door of the suite. Her dress, which he had hungrily pulled from her as she lay laughing beneath him, now sat crumpled on the chair beside her; jeering and cruel.

Guilt plagued her. What they had done was _wrong_. And what was worse, in way, it wasn't wrong at all. He was hers. Or at least, he would be. She shook her head, eyes coming suddenly open as a small hand touched her face. She gazed into the small, worried face of her small son, gave him a tight smile and motioned for him to join her. Responding immediately, he hopped up beside her, tucking his socked feet underneath of him, placing the comlink on his other side.

She looked around her, at all the holos hanging on the wall. All of the memories washed over her, her eyes filling up with tears once more. She wanted him back. She _needed _him back.

Anakin'a small hands clung to her. Digging into the tattered hem of the old, oversized sweater she wore, grasping desperately to its familiarity. She shifted and the tiny, determined fingers tightened. Leia let out the breath she hadn't realized she had taken. She leaned over to rest her forehead on top of her small son's dark blonde hair. Anakin moved closer and she pulled him onto her knees, wrapping him to her. Small splotches appeared on her sleeves and she tightened her hold, whispering words of reassurance she didn't completely believe herself.

They sat this way for a long while until, finally, Anakin's tears stopped and his fingers relaxed. She felt him take a shaky breath. "I miss Daddy." Leia's heart constricted once again.

"I know, baby. Me too."

Anakin plucked at the sleeve again. "This is Daddy's." He said simply.

"Yes, it is."

"But you wear it all the time." He stated.

Leia smiled and nodded, "I've been wearing it since before you were born." Anakin leaned back into her as she bent to kiss his hair, feeling the fabric move against her skin, worn and rough. A memory, bright and searing, clouded her eyes.

He had tossed it to her, rather roughly, after a spat regarding sleeping arrangements on their fateful flight to Bespin. Having become angry over a comment he made to her after dinner, she shouted at him, swearing that she would never, ever share _that_ bunk _with_ him, regardless of circumstance; and that she would, in fact, rather sleep anywhere else but there.

He had apologized, but again she rejected his offer to stay in his room, instead, stubbornly settling down on the holochess bench. He must have come to check on her, huddled against the corner, dejected, stubborn, frozen. The sweater hit her in the back, waking her; he stood, bare-chested, arms braced against the bulkhead, determined, staring for several uncomfortable seconds before muttering something about willful women and stupid heating units, turning back to his cabin. She had kept it for the remainder of the flight, clutching on to it. And later, when he had been taken from her, it had become something of a sacred object; she kept it with her always, reveling in the ability to be still surrounded by him. Over time, it had become part of her wardrobe, part of their familiar routine.

Her attention shifted, focusing solidly on the small body resting fretfully against her.

"Anakin?" She whispered against his head as she carefully spun her youngest son around to face her. "How did you know?" She asked softly, brushing a tangled mess of hair away from his worried face. Anakin held her gaze for a few moments before shrugging slightly, eyes imploring.

"He didn't feel right." He whispered in reply.


	15. Chapter 15

_AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you to my Beta, AmaraZ. If you read, please review. :)_

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><p>Han spent a good part of the morning being ferried around the apartment by his two, highly enthusiastic, future children.<p>

They chatted away happily as they led him through a very detailed tour of both their bedrooms, carefully explaining item after item. He nodded earnestly, asked questions when they stared at him too long, and generally tried to interact with them as he imagined a father – or rather, future father, should.

He was getting a little nervous, Leia had yet to emerge from upstairs with Anakin. He knew the young boy was taking this pretty hard. In fact, as Han glanced down at the twins bouncing around his legs, he had to admit Anakin was taking this news normally. It was the other two children who were acting strange.

They were almost done their thorough inspection of the livingroom, each twin taking turns pointing to a particular photo or item on the shelf he had already looked at two nights ago, when the comm centre chimed.

"You have to answer it!" Jaina exclaimed, bouncing up onto the sofa, while Jacen nodded, staying on the floor beside sister.

"Maybe your mom should get it. Leia!"

No answer. Jaina continued to jump quickly up and down. _Should she be doing that?_

"Leia!"

"Calm down, I'm here. Jaina, off the sofa; feet on the floor, remember?" She scolded. Han snuck a glance at his small daughter, and she pouted slightly and jumped down. "Oh, it's Luke. I'll take this in the office." And with a sideways glance at him, she added, "Maybe you should come too."

Leia quickly typed in a code on the console and the system went silent, she then turned and started towards the hallway. With one last glance at Jaina, who shrugged and climbed back up on the sofa, he set off following his future wife.

Across the hall from the office he had sat in – was really only last night? – was another office, smaller, brighter, with light blue walls, and a huge wooden framed stained-glass window reaching from floor to ceiling and nearly two meters across, sat leaning against the far wall. Flanking the window were four small white leather chairs; a low glass table sat between them.

Leia stood to the side of the doorway, watching him as he stared in silence at the strange window, displayed like art and sitting in great comparison to relative starkness of the rest of her office.

"It was a gift. From you. Or, it will be a gift from you, I suppose." She added, quietly.

"Strange gift." He shot her a sideways grin. What would posses him to give his wife a window?

Leia smiled sadly, eyes soft. "Not really. It was from an old monastery on Alderaan. Torn down almost a century before I was born. It was supposed to be relocated to another planet – I can't remember which one – but during the move, one of the transports was overtaken by pirates. I imagine they were rather disappointed when it turned out to be only old windows and doors," she smiled. "But never the less, I always assumed the entire shipment was lost forever. Until you came along, that is."

Leia moved through the room, coming to stand in front of the large window, placing her hand on the worn wooden frame.

"You bought it for me shortly after Anakin was born. It was up for sale at an underground auction, most likely some crime lord who needed the cash – you would never tell me, but you managed to pick it up. I love it." She finished, turning back to him.

Something in her eyes stilled him. He wondered, since he had woken up in this life days ago, exactly what kind of a man he would have to be to deserve someone like her. He still didn't have a good answer, but something about her - the look in her eyes, the way her face lit up when she explained small pieces of their life together - called to him on a deep level. He would become what she needed him to be, someday. He would be the man who would chase a strange large old window into the seedy underground of a likely seedy rim-ward planet just to see _that_ look on his beautiful wife's face.

They were both startled by a strange high pitch clicking.

Leia shook her head, moving around her desk, leaning down to activate the unit.

More clicking.

"What-?"

"Your son," She said, by way of an explanation, "enjoys playing with the comm settings. He changed the one in your office several months ago to Shyriiwook. But you kept it. Not many understand it, so it makes a good coding system. I, however, will not be keeping _this_ one." She turned the unit to audio only.

"Luke?"

"Leia, are you alright? I got something from Anakin last night, I tried calling you and you didn't answer."

"Yes, I'm fine., we're all fine." She glanced at Han who raised both eyebrows at her. _Fine? Really? Not the word I would have chosen... _

"I might need your help with something though. Come to think about it." She sat down heavily at her desk.

"Sure. I'll do what I can." There was a slight hesitation from the console, as if the speaker didn't quite trust what Leia would need.

_Who's Luke? _

"I need to find someone. The Jedi, Vima, that Han and I met on Nar Shaddaa when I was pregnant with Anakin. Do you remember her?"

"How could I not. She had great insight to the ways of the Old Republic and the workings of Jedi Order-"

"Right. Anyway," Leia cut him off. "I need to speak with her, it's rather urgent; do you know where I could find her?"

"I'll see what I can do. Are you going to tell me why you need to speak with her?"

"I'm playing this one pretty close, Luke. You understand." Han thought he could detect a slight hint of bitterness in her voice, but he couldn't be completely sure.

_Who's Luke?!_

"Of course. I'll send you what I have by noon today. How are the kids?"

"Oh fine. Although if I have to tell Jaina to stop climbing on the sofa one more time; you might find yourself becoming a permanent babysitter."

The man over the comm laughed, tension broken. "You'd miss her. And besides, Han would never let that little girl out of his sight."

"That's true. He would be a hard sell for that idea." She smiled wistfully, tracing her fingers across the glass surface of her desk. Han took a step towards her, noticing for the first time the pictures and doodles drawn in light pastel colours on the white-washed wood under the glass. Her fingers skipped across Anakin's name, done in light blue, messy, large printing across the centre of the desk.

Leia's head snapped up, meeting his gaze, as if just remembering he was standing there with her.

"Okay, thanks Luke. I should get back to them before they tear the house apart."

The voice laughed again. "Alright." I'll send what I find. Talk later?"

"Of course, thank you. Bye." With that, she clicked off, staring at her desk again, hand resting on the glass, covering a small drawing of a yellow person. _Oh right. The droid._

Standing, she moved towards the door, "Alright, while we're waiting for that, I'll sort something for lunch."

Han move aside, letting her pass. And with one last look at the large, old window standing in silence across from him, he turned to follow her.


	16. Chapter 16

_AN: I love reviews. You should leave me one... just sayin! :)  
><em>

_AN2: Thank you to Zyra M for beta-ing this for me. You rock! _

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><p>"So, you have a plan?" Han asked as they walked slowly from Leia's office back towards the main living area.<p>

"I have a hunch. It's not really a plan. I'll get the kids upstairs and we can figure something out."

Han nodded. "Well, a hunch is good. It's better than the plan I had."

"Which was?" she asked over her shoulder as she side-stepped towards the staircase.

"Well, I actually didn't have one."

"Shocking," Leia muttered, reaching up and swiftly pulling Jaina off the staircase railing.

"But Jacen did it too!" the little girl protested weakly, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck.

"Are you a monster?" Leia smiled, kissing her daughter's cheek.

"Yes!" Jaina replied happily, giggling.

"I thought so." Leia shook her head, rolled her eyes and slid Jaina down to the floor. "Go find your brothers; you can watch holos in my room. I'll make lunch."

"No!" Jacen appeared suddenly at the top of the landing and came shrieking down the stairs with Anakin trailing behind him, contently munching on a stale, cold pancake.

"Oh Ani, Sweetie, no, that's yucky." Leia moved to take the pancake away from the little boy.

"No it's not. I'm hungry." Anakin stated, relinquishing his breakfast.

"Mom, you can't make lunch," Jacen stated in a matter-of-fact voice that made Han chuckle.

"I have something in the freezer unit, cheeky little monster. Now go watch holos before I make you clean your rooms."

The hall cleared instantly as all three children thundered up the stairs, arguing over real estate on the large bed.

Leia turned back to Han and smiled apologetically. "I'd like to say it's not usually like this, but..." she trailed off with a shrug." Would you like tea or something?"

xXx

"I've always been worse-than-useless in the kitchen. But luckily, I can manage tea and caf on my own," Leia announced, setting a mug down in front of him and taking a seat on the couch opposite. She had finished taking lunch, a wonderful smelling stew and warm dinner buns, up to the kids, who were spread out on the bed in their parents' bedroom, hooting with laughter watching rerun holos.

"You can run a government but you can't feed yourself?" he asked, rather astonished. She seemed so capable - thinking of her not being able to do something as simple as cook was rather absurd.

Leia laughed. "Well to be honest, I've never had to; you've always looked after me fairly well. Are you hungry?"

"Not just yet, you?" She shook her head. She wasn't even able to think about food, not right now.

"I'm sorry about the other night," He said suddenly, surprising her.

"What?"

"You said I was different and I got mad at you. But now, seeing all this - you, the kids, our life here - I see what you meant. I have to become different. I can't be me and have all of this, can I? That's the point."

"I don't think that's true." When he looked surprised and skeptical, she went on. "You've always been _you_. I love the man you are, I didn't have to make you into someone else, someone who fits into a particular box. You've always been who I wanted, who I needed. It's true, you change, but not in the way you're thinking. Look at what you did for Chewie, I wasn't around and you still saved him. Or Bria even. I mean, she's a useless, backstabbing bitch who broke your heart and betrayed you, but still, you helped her. Twice."

Han was staring at her dumbfounded. _Twice!? _

Leia blushed. "Sorry. I... I just really don't like her."

"I can tell."

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Good. I don't want to talk about her, either."

"Okay, well; Bria aside, all I mean is, you are who you are and I love you for that. You came back for me. Time and time again. You didn't have you, but you did. Or you will - or however this whole time-travel-thing works. My point is, perhaps this wasn't done to you as a warning or whatever, perhaps it was done to give you hope." Leia watched as Han's face softened, eyes wide and calculating.

"Maybe you're right."

"I think I am."

"I don't want to leave." He looked at her, that same determined look he had given her when he decided to step down as General to take care of their family. The look that dared anything to contradict him. She smiled, breaking his intense gaze to pick up her mug again. She knew she had to break the tension somehow.

"Well, give the kids a few more hours and you might change your mind." She shrugged, looking at him from behind her mug.

Han sat back, the spell wasn't broken. If given the chance he would never leave her, never leave them; but the air had cleared slightly.

"Oh, I don't know. I didn't make a break for it last night when you abandoned me with them. That was terrifying."

"You have always maintained that children are like rancors; they can small fear. At least our children are generally good natured."

"They're great kids."

"Yeah. They are. Jaina's driving me crazy these days, but I think she's really only acting up because you've been home so much. You make her brave."

"Could be. Or maybe she's covering for something else."

Leia looked up started; steam from her mug swirling in front of her face, accented by the sun reflecting through the large glass wall beside her. "What do you mean?"

Han shrugged, leaning forward resting his forearms on his knees.

"I don't know, she didn't really say anything solid, but when we were working on the _Falcon_ yesterday she mentioned something about a force - and that Luke guy, whoever he is - and said she would be in trouble. But, I have a feeling she actually meant something else."

"Luke doesn't think the children have a good enough grasp on their emotions, he wants them to be more controlled. I think he blames me for that. I tend to be a little more, outgoing, with my feelings then he would like me to be."

"Well, they are only, what? Six and four years old? What does he expect! Does this guy have kids?"

"No, he doesn't. He had gotten a lot of his information from ancient scripts and writings. Not from practical experience."

"I think this _Luke_," Han said, accenting the name as if allegedly that was his name, "Should mind his own business."

"Luke's my brother," Leia murmured absently, staring into the swirling steam, lost in thought.

"Oh, I was wondering. He's a bit pushy, isn't he?"

Leia laughed suddenly, while reaching to place her mug on the side table, spilling hot tea across the glass. "Yes, I suppose he is." She sobered and twisted her wedding ring around her finger thoughtfully. "That concerns me about Jaina. I know she's had a hard time – worse than the boys – coping with everything that happened with Hethrir and of course, the fallout from that." Leia sat back a bit, regarding him, "Sorry, I forget you don't know about us."

"I was able to read a bit about it last night. He's the asshole who took and tormented them for almost a week, right?" Han's jaw clenched and his hands balled into tight fists at the thought. He knew that type of man. He had grown up under the care – if you could describe what Garris Shrike did for him as 'care' - of a man like that. The idea that his children would have to experience that as well made him sick.

"That would be him, yes," Leia whispered. "Jaina tends to feel responsible for her brothers; she sees it as her job since she's the oldest. And it terrified her when they were separated, especially when Anakin was taken away – I think. They were all told we were dead and they had to nowhere else to go. Jaina knew you weren't dead, since she knew you were off world with Chewie and Luke when it happened, but Anakin believed them and that made it worse."

"Did he hurt them?" Han whispered, staring down at his hands, studying the small silver band still resting on his finger. He didn't want to hear the answer, but he had to know.

"Not as far as I can tell, not physically, I mean. They were abused, but not hurt, so to speak. A few of the other children were, though. And I believe they may have kept Anakin sedated. Jaina said he just slept a lot – which, as you can tell, isn't in character."

Han nodded, but said nothing. He continued to gaze steadily at her, his jaw randomly clenching and unclenching, as she watched anger and frustration move across his features.

_This was wrong._ He thought angrily. _I shouldn't be here. Not now. Not when these children need their father. Not when Leia so clearly needs her husband._ She needed someone strong, someone to help her through this. Someone who knew her, knew them; not a toxic 20-something bachelor who, up until only yesterday, didn't believe in the kind of love, the kind of intimacy and companionship, which would force him to look at his life and decide it wasn't good enough for him anymore.

All he ever wanted was to be free; and as he stared into the worried face of his future wife, he realized there different kinds of freedom.

He would be free with her. She loved him for him; not for who she wanted him to be and not for what he could do for her, but what they could do together.

He was about to say so when a sharp, excited, giggle from up the stairs broke through the dark mood shrouding the livingroom. Leia glanced up the stairs, features instantly softer.

Han smiled, relaxing and spread his hands towards her.

"Alright. So, tell me about this hunch of yours."


	17. Chapter 17

_AN: I love reviews. You should leave me one... just sayin! :)  
><em>

_AN2: And as always, a huge thank you to my Betas: Amara, Zyra & LeapyLion. Without you I would be plagued with over-capitalization and debilitating writers-block!  
><em>

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><p>"Let me get this straight," Han sighed as he ran his hands through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time since Leia starting going over her idea. He had interrupting Leia's rehash, staring at her in concerned disbelief for several minutes, unable to fully believe the sequence of events she was relaying.<p>

"I took you, my wife – while you were pregnant with my child – to Nar Shaddaa."

Leia nodded, not entirely understanding his exasperation. _Perhaps I'm just jaded,_ she mused. _Or maybe it's that we've just gotten too comfortable skirting death_. She hadn't gotten to the crux of her story. She had been just trying to give him some context when he had stopped her, sputtering and staring at her incredulously, asking if they were insane.

"It was pretty typical," She said, trying to sound casual. "You know, we met a few of your bitter ex-girlfriends, dodged several bounty hunters and avoided getting killed. Nothing we couldn't handle."

"While you were _pregnant_, we got shot at by bounty hunters?!"

"Well, yes. That's all rather pedestrian though, that kind of thing happens a lot. Plus, that's not the point of my story."

"What do you mean 'it happens a lot'?" he asked incredulous, making air-quotes as he spoke.

"I mean, we've been getting shot at since we met. In fact, I saved us from getting killed when we first met. And don't air-quote me. I don't like it."

"I think I read somewhere that _I_ rescued _you_."

"That's what you like to believe."

Han made a non-committal noise at the back of his throat.

"I would be dead without you, yes, that's true. But we would all be dead without me. Now, may I continue my story? Or would you prefer to argue with me some more?"

"Does this story get better?"

"It gets more _relevant_. And besides, everything turned out fine; Anakin's here and in one piece. And anyway, that was really the most boring part of my pregnancy. Life with you, General Solo, is never dull." She smiled. Han shook his head and gestured for her to continue. Taking his pregnant wife to the rough and tumble underbelly of the smuggling world didn't seem like the most responsible, grown up thing to do. Perhaps Leia was right. Perhaps he really doesn't change too much, after all.

"Anyway," Leia went on. "While we were there, we came across a beggar in an alleyway. She knew me instantly; stopping us and grabbing hold of my ankle – you weren't too happy about that. She started mumbling something about seeing the future. I was able to decipher that she was a Jedi and eventually she came with us off-world. We lost track of her a while later though and I haven't spoken to or seen her since. She's-"

"Crazy?" Han offered, leaning back.

"No, she's not crazy, she's just a little bit-"

"Unstable?"

"Are you finished?"

"What?"

"Stop interrupting me."

"Sorry. Please, continue" he said with a wink. She was fairly easy to rile up.

"As I was saying," she gave him a rather pointed look. "I haven't seen her in years. She's fallen off the grid; I'm hoping Luke may be able to locate her. My guess is that she's back on Nar Shaddaa, a creature of habit so-to-speak."

"So we would have to go to Nar Shaddaa?"

"I guess so. I can't think of any way around it."

"I just came from there."

"Well, it's a bit different now, or so I hear. I suppose we'll have to pick Chewie up – he wouldn't be happy if we went without him. I'd rather not involve Lando if we can help it. He'll tell Mara and she'll tell Karrde, it'll be a mess."

"Where's Chewie? And who's Mara?"

"Chewie is on Kashyyyk and Mara is a... friend of ours. Ex-assassin. Ex-smuggler. Sometimes Jedi. Always reliable."

"And by the sounds of it she's a _friend_ of Lando's."

"Yes. It's all rather convoluted. She wanted to kill Luke for a while, but she ended up saving his life instead. Then she started training as a Jedi, but she's more into... information gathering at the moment. I like her."

"Apart from the killing-your-brother-thing."

Leia smiled. "Yes, apart from that. And after we first met her she saved our babies. I'll never be able to re-pay her for that." Han nodded, marveling at the life he will eventually become so comfortable in. A life of politics, kidnapping attempts, Jedi and ex-assassins all intertwined with enjoying Saturday morning pancakes in bed with his children and watching old holos with his wife. Strange. But from the look of it, everything somehow works out.

"What about the kids? What will happen to them when we go?"

"We can't bring them with us. Winter might be able to take them, or I could see if Malla wouldn't mind looking after them for a few days. I can't imagine we would be gone long. That way, when we pick them up, Chewie can stay on longer with his family if he wants to."

"She'd probably like that; knowing Malla."

"Yes, she does love those kids. Jacen adores her. I have a holo from our last holiday there."

"I'd love to see it." Han murmured, staring down at his hands.

"Really? You would?"

"Of course, if that's alright."

"I'm sure it's alright. I'm not sure if there are any rules with this whole time-traveling thing, but I figure we're already down the proverbial worm-hole. Might as well keep going." she said, offering him a shy smile, after all - she mused, trying to stifle a small panicky giggle - they had already _acted_ married. Twice. "The holos are all upstairs."

"What holos?" Jacen's small voice asked from behind his mother as he climbed over the back of the sofa, in a single-minded move to sit on her lap.

"Our family holos." Leia explained, brushing tousled hair away from her son's eyes.

"Can we watch them?" Jaina asked, appearing as well behind the sofa, fingers winding gently through Leia's hair; which has been hurriedly pulled into a loose, messy bun earlier that morning.

"Sure. Where's your brother?"

"He's still upstairs watching-" Jacen was cut off by the comm unit's alert.

"That will be your uncle," Leia said standing up, shifting Jacen down beside her. "I have to take this call. How about you two go upstairs and get the holos out. I'll be up in a minute."

"Can we pick which ones?" Jaina asked, hopeful.

"Okay, you each can pick one. Tell Ani, too. I'll be right up." The twins scurried off and Leia reached over to forward the call to her office again. "Showtime," she breathed.

**XxX**

"What do you mean 'no'? Shouldn't you, of all people, be able to find her?" Leia asked, angrily stabbing her datapad stylus on the desk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Luke's voice crackled over the comm.

"I mean, you spend half your life in bloody meditation determining the will of the Force or whatever, well what good is it if-"

"Do you know of where we should start looking?" Han broke in, keeping his eyes locked on the now very angry face of his future wife. The bickering over the comm had been escalating since Luke announced he had no idea where the Jedi-Witch was. Fighting was going to get them no where.

"Han! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were there too," Luke sounded relieved. "It might be worthwhile asking Mara, or Karrde. They have contacts around Nar Shaddaa who might have seen her."

"I suppose I could-"

"Look," Leia interrupted. "If we wanted to involve Mara or Karrde, we would have. But we don't. I guess we'll have to find her the hard way, after all."

"I'm sorry, Leia. If I knew what this was about I might be able to offer a better alternative."

"No that's fine. Like I said earlier, I want to keep this pretty close. Thanks."

"Okay. I guess I'll talk to you later?"

"We'll call when we have a plan. Bye."

"Bye Han."

"See ya, Kid." Han sagged down in the chair opposite Leia; tempted to put his feet up on the desk, but from the look on her face, he didn't relish risking her anger.

"I was a little harsh, wasn't I?"

"A little."

"I'm just so worried about you." Leia whispered, as if revealing a great secret.

"Hey," Han went quickly to her, crouching beside the chair, swiveling her to face him. "Don't cry. Please, Leia. Don't cry. I'm okay." At that she cried harder, large tears crept down her face.

"It's not you. It's, well, _my_ you."

"Oh. Right. Well, I'm sure he's okay too. Leia look at me. This will be righted, I promise you. You'll get him back." He tried to sound confident, brushing a tear away with his thumb. She closed her eyes.

"He's always taken away from me." Leia's whisper was quieter still, hardly more then a breath.

"Taken away?"

"Yes. All the time. It's not fair." Han stroked her hair. "And it's always my fault."

"Hey, that can't be true."

"It is. All of it. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be taken."

"Leia-"

"No. It's true. Vader tortured you because of me! You were frozen and taken to Jabba because of me! If you hadn't come back for me, you would have been able to go to him earlier and sorted everything out. The same applied if you had left after Yavin. But you didn't. You stayed for me. And even after I got you back, they always sent you away, tried to keep us apart," She was railing now, unable to hold back the worries and the tears which had plagued her for so long. "You were never home. You never had any time. Because of me. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be taken away." Leia wrapped her arms around her stomach, holding in the gnawing fear which threatened to rip her apart. Was this her fault too? Had he been taken away again because of her?

"No. Leia, look at me." She sniffed, looking him through watery eyes. "You can only be taken if there's someone to notice. I've never had someone to notice before. I wouldn't trade that for anything and I've only known you for a little over two days. So no. It's not your fault. None of it. It's unlucky, sure. But as far as blame goes - let's leave that where it belongs and we both know it doesn't belong on your shoulders." He stared hard at her for several seconds before she nodded, visibly relaxing. "Now, what about those holos you promised me?"


	18. Chapter 18

_AN: Happy Weekend! This wasn't the chapter I sat down to write, but since it's been a while, I figured we should check in on "Other Han".  
>As always, if you read, please let me know about it!<em>

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><p>Well, he thought unsteadily; still staring, horrified, at his empty hand. If Leia wasn't going to kill him over his broken nose, she certainly was going to now.<p>

He swiped the comm off the counter, water dripping slowly off the end, and growled into it.

"Lando!"

"Oh, you are still there. I thought you might have died." The disembodied voice of his friend crackled through the tiny speaker system, echoing slightly in the confines of the dingy fresher.

"Where were we last night? I have to go back there. Now." He was starting to get frantic. Maybe it fallen off or been stolen at whatever low-brow joint they had found themselves in last night.

"Go back? Are you insane? We can't go back, not after what happened. And in any case, this shipment _has_ to go out today. Like I told you, we're all ready, just waiting on you. Get your ass over here, we _need_ to leave."

"Where are you? What shipment? Is Chewie with you?"

"What?"

"Where are you?"

"We're at the _Falcon_. Docking bay 61-AY4, sixteen levels down from you. I'll get her hot, hurry. Watch for Troopers."

_Troopers?_

"Hey! Wait a minute." The light blinked red. Call ended.

He hadn't had to 'watch for Troopers' in years. Not counting, of course, the scouting mission games he had recently begun to play with Anakin, games which currently involved sneaking around the house without being spotted by C3PO or Leia, and ambushing both the twins with the soft-dart blaster guns he had found while on route back from a trade summit the month before.

"Kriff." Han swore. Flipping the device to silent, and turning out of the fresher to find pants, hoping against all hope that maybe he left his ring in his cabin. That seemed like a rather logical thing to do.

Han gave his face one last look, passing his forefinger again carefully over the bruising under his left eye, and frowned, wincing slightly. His nose was broken, no doubt about that. But how?

Hurried, Han stumbled through getting dressed, taking note with mounting apprehension, that nothing looked like anything he owned. Well, at least for the past 10 years or so.

Racking his memory, desperate to remember something, anything which would lead to a reason for all of this.

Everything about this new place was black.

He sat down on the bed, breathing deeply. He could have been drugged, that was a possibility.

He remembered waiting for Leia, lying in bed at home, smiling as he listened to her sing softly in the fresher. He remembered Jaina's smile, happily bouncing around the kitchen, after he asked her to help him install a new sensor the next morning. He remembered the look in Leia's eyes when she suggested he only read the kids one story that night. Yes, he remembered that very well.

But all of this; the hotel, his nose, the missing ring, Lando. No, he didn't remember any of this.

Where the hell was he? And where the kriff was his ring? He never took it off. Not even on assignment, which was apparently where he was, not that he remembered exactly what was going on, but he was with Lando, evenings of blankness weren't an uncommon side effect. Having run into some resistance on that front early on in his marriage about wearing his ring all the time, he had always countered the argument of if they didn't want a married man, they shouldn't send him. He was married to Leia no matter where he was and not anything; not the New Republic, not underworld crime lords and certainly not his old smuggling buddies, would change that.

**XxX**

It took him what felt like forever to find Bay 61. Racing down the hallway, his boots contacting heavily with the dingy battered duracrete under his feet, Han watched the location markers steadily grow before finally coming to a halt in front of AY4. Taking a minute to check the blaster strapped to his thigh, casually sling his bag over his shoulder and adopt a passively annoyed face, he stepped through the archway.

It was never a good idea to act like you were in a hurry, it garnered the wrong kind of attention.

Lando had been right; the place was crawling with Stormtroopers. Which was odd, seeing as he was definitely on Nar Shaddaa, not exactly part of the New Republic, but certainly a far jump from Imperial Space.

Something was going on.

Han ducked underneath a low bunkhead and let out a breath he didn't realize he had taken.

There she was.

From where he came in, he could see Chewie at the controls, yowling at someone behind him; Lando – he assumed.

Coming closer, he noticed she looked different. The armoured plating he had upgraded to after the Battle of Endor wasn't there. Large wide mouth percussion cannons sat menacingly on either side of the cockpit. A new addition as well. Narrowing his eyes, Han strode towards his ship, slapping the control panel on the inside of the ramp, quickly raising and securing it for takeoff.

Rounding the corner to the cockpit, he called to Chewie to go get her prepped. A loud angry rumble replied.

"Alright. Alright. Keep your fur on. It's been a bad morning. I'll be there in a second," Han shouted back. "Damned impatient oaf," he muttered under his breath as he depressed the access to the main cabin. The door to the spare cabin beside him was open. Glancing casually through it, his blood ran cold.

Quickly throwing his pack onto his bunk, knocking over data cards scattered on the ledge over the headboard, he strode into the spare cabin and stood bewildered.

This room should have been outfitted with three stacked bunks instead of two. There should have been stuffed toys and model ships littering the shelves.

What greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks.

Instead of children's toys and clothes; bags, boxes and bottles were strewn across the room. Stacks of flimsies lay scattered haphazardly around the room, datacards like ones on his side-table this morning littered the ground. This was _not_ his children's room. He yanked the small closet door free; supplies tumbled out onto his feet.

"Chewie!" He practically screamed. This was wrong. All of it.

He strode back into his cabin, frantically pulling the drawers of the storage unit open. He could find nothing of Leia's. Hands shaking, he stood and crossed over to the fresher, a room which had always smelled lightly of her perfume since she started traveling with him, early on during his years with the Rebellion. The light floral spice scent which was always uniquely hers and clung to everything he owned and loved. It had softly slipped throughout his life; staying as a reminder for her, even when she wasn't with him. Opening the door to nothing, he felt his stomach drop out of him. No perfume, no white towels, no hairdryer - an object which he had adamantly complained about since the day she brought it through the hatch – no Leia.

Shaking harder now, he pushed out of the unit, back into the room. He poised his foot to angrily kick one of the drawers back into place as his eyes locked on the sleeve of a sweater that had no business being where it was.

"Chewie!" He yelled again, glancing behind him in time to see his co-pilot lumbering angrily down the hallway.

"Don't start with me!" Han shouted, immediately going on the defensive. "Look at this! That the hell is going on!" He swiftly grabbing the hem, he held up the old, worn sweater; a sweater which didn't belong with him anymore; and shook it, clutching it tightly in his hand. It wasn't so much a question as it was all the frustration from the last few hours exploding out of him.

Where was he? But more importantly - his heart skipped quickly as he looked down at the tattered article in his grip - where was Leia.


	19. Chapter 19

_AN: I couldn't leave it. I had to post this.  
>As always, if you read, please let me know about it!<em>

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><p>Han's angry, confused shouting had caught the attention of Lando, who was now leaning against the opposite wall, watching his slow, painful meltdown.<p>

Lashing out he angrily kicked the open cupboard, which should have held Leia's clothing, sending it sailing back into place with a loud thud. Chewie was regarding him silently, letting him rant and rail with mild interest.

"Han." Lando's voice came quietly from the hallway. He turned, eyes angry, staring at his friend.

"What?" he growled, frustrated.

"We have to go. Can you hold your shit together until we clear the grav-well?"

"Sure. Why not. The sooner we leave this Hutt-hole, the happier I'll be. Let's go home."

"Home?" Lando asked, brow creasing moving to follow Chewie who was grumbling something incoherent while he turned back to the cockpit. Han followed them, still clutching Leia's sweater in his right hand.

Sitting down behind the controls did little to calm him. He ran a hand over the instrument panel, so familiar for so long, but now out of place, sickeningly different.

"Alright, let's get out of here," he muttered, tossing a quick glance to Chewie how was working the repulsor controls. The _Falcon_ shuttered and whined deeply as she lifted off the landing pad.

_That's new_, Han thought as he pulled free of the gravity-well and into open space.

"Alright, coordinates are set," Lando stated quietly when the Falcon turned her nose away from the Smuggler's Moon of Nar Shaddaa and towards open space. Han heard him drop back heavily into Leia's navigator chair directly behind him. Han took a quick glance at the readings and spun around to face his friend.

"What?"

"Tatooine? Why, in the blue blazes of Hell, would we go to Tatooine? And why-" he paused to turn and read the screen properly, "are we flying through Bothan Space? I _hate_ Bothan Space."

"Bothan Space?"

"You have us going right by Bothawui, last time I checked, that was Bothan Space! Actually -" Han ran a finger over the small text, "no, you have us going _through_ Bothawui!" Han stabbed his pointer finger at the screen to illustrate his point. Chewie growled a low question but Han was too distracted to listen. Through a planet? Right, because that sounded like a good idea. The Navi system obviously needed re-jigging, if it honestly mapped that out as a reasonable route. Mentally adding that to the long, ever-growing list of things he and Chewie had to work on when they could find the time, he shook his head angrily at his companions until Lando threw his arms wide and glared at him like he was insane.

"Are you spiced out? Bothawui hasn't been around for years."

"What?"

"It was next to go after Alderaan and Yavin4, how can you not remember that! It was _kind_ _of_ a big deal! Hey, you okay?"

"Alderaan," Han whispered, eyes wide and staring, moving the sweater back and forth between his hands.

Chewie gruffed a low question but Han couldn't answer him. No, he wasn't alright, he wasn't alright at all.

"Yavin4," he breathed, playing with the tattered hem, remembering the way Anakin's fingers would wrap around through the small holes along the edge as he sat on Leia's lap watching for breaking news on the holonet. He could picture Leia clearly, wearing nothing else as she padded through the kitchen of their apartment back home, one hand casually caressing her ever growing belly, talking softly to the two tiny lives inside her, as he watched quietly from the doorway. His breath caught in his throat. Yavin4 and Bothawui. That just wasn't possible.

"Yeah. You don't look so good, Buddy," concern crept into Lando's voice, replacing the annoyance which had clouded his features only a moment ago.

"Why Bothawui?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why was it destroyed?"

"The Bothans were moving information to the Rebellion. The Emperor made them pay heavily for it. It's not Bothan Space anymore, it's under military rule. Don't you know this?"

Han shook his head slowly and ran a hand over his face, hissing sharply as he touched his nose. "When?"

"About 20 years ago. It wasn't long after Alderaan was destroyed."

"20 years!"

"Yeah, around there."

"But Alderaan was destroyed just over 14 years ago. How is that possible?"

"No, It's been 20 years, Han." Lando stared at him exasperated, talking calmly and slowly, the way Leia spoke to the him and kids when they were treading on very thin ice.

"Can't be," he said quietly turning back to stare out the cockpit at the stars swirling around them; indecisive and cold. "Why are we going to Tatooine?" Han asked quietly staring at the screen as small, blue font quickly starting to cover the display.

"Jabba needs to see you. You have stuff for him. Last haul of the season – remember?"

"What? No, Jabba's dead." Lando laughed at this.

"Don't let him hear you say that, you may not be his favourite anymore!" Chewie chuckled too.

"His favourite? Since when? I wasn't his since that spice drop. And yeah, he is dead." Lando shook his head. "I'm sorry Old Buddy, you must have been really out of it last night if you don't remember anything. He's alive. You have transmissions from him yesterday."

"If he's alive, then-" Han stood leaned over to the Navi computer and scrolled quickly across the screen.

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know what to think. But I do know I need to go home. We're not going to Tatooine."

"We have to! Well, technically, _you_ have to. I'm just tagging along, making myself scarce on Nar Shaddaa for a while. And what, you're going to waltz over to Corellia? That'll go well."

"No, I have to go back to Coruscant."

"You really have lost it. We can't go there! We wouldn't get within ten systems of Imperial Centre!" Lando exclaimed, standing now to glare at Han. "You want to just hand us over to the Emperor? Is that what you're playing at?"

"Emperor?!"

"Bored with your life are you? Thinking maybe you've had enough?" As Lando continued shouting, Chewie stood and put a paw on Han's shoulder, pushing him down firmly into the Captain chair.

Running a hand through his hair, Han closed his eyes. He couldn't have _actually_ simply imagined his life, could he? No, that was impossible. He _knew_, deep in his bones he _knew_, something was wrong. This wasn't where he was supposed to be. This was Saturday. Pancakes morning. He should be at home, beside Leia, coaxing her to relax and stay in bed with him for just a few more moments before the kids got up. _That_ was his life. _That_ was real. It _had_ to be real. It left a lot of questions as to what was going on right at this moment, but that life was real and it was his.

He had questions alright, questions that perhaps only one Being in the galaxy would be able to help him with. The last Being in the whole galaxy he ever thought he would see again.

"Okay, Tatooine it is," He set the sweater on his knees. "Punch it, Chewie."


	20. Chapter 20

_AN: So - instead of going for run, which I really should do, I figured instead I would post a new chapter. Just look at the selfless things I do in the name of fandom! The fact that it's pouring rain has very little to do with this decision. :) R&R please. And as always, a thank you to my betas - Amara and Zyra. :)  
><em>

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><p>Leia took a deep, steadying breath. Her gaze still religiously fixed on the dark, determined, hazel eyes she knew and loved so well; currently staring up, concerned, from a relaxed crouched on the floor beside her.<p>

She had never spoken those fears out loud before. Never had she been able to summon the courage to tell Han how she felt. How she knew that everything which had happened to him since they met was her fault. Not that she wished it to be different, she loved him and was too selfish to let him go; but she was afraid if she spoke those words to him, he would realized the truth of them.

This familiar stranger crouched in front of her, worried and reassuring, was sweet; but his words were not entirely accurate. How could he know? Innocent of the atrocities which have yet to be levelled against him on her account, he gazed at her in wonder; holding her to an esteem which she in no way deserved.

_It's happened again,_ she thought, astonished.

Blinded by his love for her, by searing adoration and awe, he again failed to see exactly what would become of her _without_ him. His love. His complete and utter trust in _them_. Their love. Their life together. Their children. All symbols of what this remarkable man would do for her and still he didn't see it.

Leia shook her head once again to clear her thoughts.

"Okay, let's worry about this later," she said, offering him a small smile.

"Holos?" he asked, face hopeful.

"Yes. Holos." she laughed.

**XxX**

The day had passed by quickly and rather comfortably, Leia mused with astonishment. After the shocking start they had this morning, her little family had settled into a restful, if only a little bit awkward, dynamic.

The twins, still unable to find anything inherently wrong with the whole situation, lounged happily across the bed, chatting away, requesting holo after holo, laughing and enlightening the exciting new person to their lives.

Even Anakin, after a few vids, finally relaxed enough to slowly crawl off her lap, settling on his stomach on the foot of the bed with his sister.

They had exhausted the family collection of holos long after dinner, late into the evening. Watching everything from holidays, birthdays to the short "documentaries" the children had made; mainly pancake mornings and games of hide-and-seek in the _Falcon. _Leia spent most of the time watching the man beside her; enthralled by a life he was yet to be a part of, his attention riveted to the screen. Between datacards, Jaina delighted in showing him all the secret handshakes and code words from the imaginary worlds they played in.

Stretching softly, careful not to disturb the mound of children at his feet, Han shifted carefully, rising from the bed. Leia was curled gently around the sleeping form of Jaina, softly speaking to her small daughter, coaxing the little girl awake before turning her attention to Jacen. With the twins trudging tiredly downstairs to bed, Leia bent over the still form of her youngest son, lightly playing with his hair.

"Do you want me to take him down?" Han asked, quietly, holding his breath that she was say yes. She nodded, smiling.

Scooping gently, he gathered his young son to him. Murmuring, Anakin shifted, hands coming to rest on the front of Han's front, curling around the fabric securely. The gesture, small as it was, calm and familiar, stopped his heart.

Leia followed, folding back the covers as Han placed him down, brushing tangled hair from Anakin's forehead, planting light kisses as she did.

Han stood apart from her, backing slowly out of the room, supported against the doorframe, breathing uneven. He turned, slowly climbed the stairs to the master suite, and gathered a small stack of datacards in his hands.  
>"You okay?"<p>

He looked up, startled, into the wide brown eyes of Leia. Nodding with a smile, he moved to put away the cards. "We really are happy, aren't we?" he asked quietly as he rearranged the mess of cards in the small box.

"Yes. Yes, we really are. We always have been." Leia whispered reverently, wide eyes shining in the dim light. "Is there anything else you want to see?" she asked after a moment, still standing just inside the doorway, features soft.

"There's more?"

Leia laughed, smiling. "Well, those were family ones. I have some political ones if you want to see..." she trailed off.

"Sure." Han replied quickly, and with that, Leia disappeared quickly into the closet, reappearing almost instantly, a small box under her arm.

"What's this one?" Han held up a data card from the small stack as Leia dug through looking for the liberation of Coruscant vid one of the Rogue's had taken.

"Oh, that's nothing." Leia blushed, moving to grab the small disk out of his hand. Han snatched it away from her, holding it up above her reach in an adolescent move.

"Doesn't seem like 'nothing'. I want to know what it is. There's no label on it. Just a small smile drawn in the corner, it looks... interesting."

"It's honestly nothing. In fact, I can't even remember what it is. Can I have it back, please?" she asked, holding her hand out in a way he had see her do with the children earlier, a slight blush starting to creep its way across her cheeks.

"Well, let's watch it and find out what it is." He countered, enjoying the faint glow of embarrassment now marring her delicate features.

"No! Give it to me! Now!"

Han stared incredulously at her for a moment, before his face split into a wide grin. "Excuse me? Do that again."

"Do what?" Leia paused, blushing hot.

"You stomped your foot at me."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"That's childish. I wouldn't do that."

"I agree, it is childish. But that doesn't change the fact that you did it. For that, we get to watch this card."

"This isn't a negotiation."

"Okay." Han took a step towards the holo centre, arm outstretched, poised to insert the small object in question.

"No! Wait, Han. Please, I can't watch that with you. Please."

"Why not?"

"It's - I - because - it's from our honeymoon!" she blurted out.


	21. Chapter 21

_AN: Congrats Disney. This is your universe now. I'm just playing here.  
>AN2: I apologize for my long absence. I wont bore you with details on here. If you really want to know, PM me. Enjoy!<br>_

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><p>An infectious grin spread across his face as she stood, fists balled tight against her side, glaring at him.<p>

_Infuriating man_, she thought angrily. Meeting his eyes she saw a familiar softness there which would not have been out-of-place before the morning.

Suddenly Leia found herself fighting against instinct, suppressing the overwhelming urge to laugh, leap towards him and throw her arms around his neck. Instead, she allowed the absurdity of the situation to drip down throughout her body, seep into her pores, cloud her mind. Slowly, it filled her heart slowly with tiny bubbles of hysteria.

How many time had he looked at her that way? Knowing exactly how to push her into just the right corner to get her to react. He knew, had known for years, precisely which of her buttons to push to elect each desired reaction. He had always been able to play her so well. Here stood a man, a relative stranger, who _knew_ her. _Understood_ her on a primal sub-level. This man didn't know her, not really, yet here they stood, as they had many times; stubborn and unrelenting, teasing and familiar.

_How many times have we stood like this?_ She wondered, watching him twirl the tiny disc around in his fingers, taunting her. How many times had he teased her, snatched her to him, pinned her down and played that holo; bound and determined to re-enact the contents of that private recording, to exceed and excel, to pull her with him in that erotic combination of memory and movement?

_Not enough_, she thought suddenly, tears threatening to overtake her again. _Not enough._

xXx_  
><em>

Han watched a series of emotions sweep over Leia's face in quick succession.

Anger, embarrassment, amusement, doubt and fear.

Each replacing the other swiftly, until her eyes, still settled on him, unfocused as they had become, started to fill again with desperate, silent tears.

He dropped the disc quickly, depositing it with a soft thud on to the dresser behind him. He crossed the floor towards her, closing the distance between them in two long strides. Without thinking, he reached for her, softly running his hands across her cheeks, wrapping around the back of her head, fingers caressing her silky strands as he muttered apologies against the top of her head.

"I'm sorry. Leia? I'm so sorry. I was only playing. I had no right to, I'm sorry."

Cursing himself and his own foolishness, he pulled her close to him. She wasn't his to tease. At least, not yet. He hadn't earned that right. He continued his soft mantra. Cooing quietly, stoically remembering never to call her 'Honey', he drew soft small circles through her hair, massaging her scalp. Desperate to win her back.

_"Nice move, hot-shot,"_ he silently berated himself, grimacing as she shuddered softly against him in the enormous effort of controlling herself. Why had he done that? Why push her, now? They had been on an easy footing since mid-morning, and now he had ruined it.

xXx

She could say nothing.

Do nothing.

Except let herself be calmed and comforted by him. Basking in the absurdity of the strangely familiar feeling, she relaxed into him, letting him hold her, murmuring soft, soothing words into her hair.

"It's okay," she whispered into his chest, voice betraying her even further. She cleared her throat and pushed back from him slightly. "It's okay," she repeated. "Today's just been really long. That's all. And," she added with a weak smile. "It's not like I'm a stranger to arguing with over that particular request. That disc is a favourite of yours."

Han relaxed slightly, throwing a quick get-out-of-trouble smile on and running a hand through his hair.

The movement struck Leia as odd. She had never seen him do that. It suggested anxiousness, something he had always hidden extremely well.

"Well, I can guess why," he replied, pulling her away from her thoughts. "I can't wait to see it. I'm guessing I'll have to wait another, what, fifteen years or so?"

Leia laughed lightly, moving to sit on the bed, folding her legs under her. "Only about twelve. So, it's not that bad."

He came towards her, sinking to a tall crouch beside her so they were eye-to-eye. After a moment, he spoke again. "Ah, twelve years is nothing, I can wait that long. It'll be worth it. I know it will." His voice dropping even quieter, holding promise and apology.

Leia could feel heat rising up her throat, threatening to spread across her cheeks. She cringed inwardly, this was not exactly the best time to start blushing.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again.

"I know. It's okay. I'm okay. It's just been-"

"A long day," he finished, softly.

Leia nodded. It had been, she thought wearily, a _very_ long day.

"You need sleep. Goodnight," he rose swiftly, planting a kiss on her forehead before he stepped away.

"Wait!"

He turned, staring at her. There was no helping it now, she could feel her cheeks start to redden as she sat unable to move.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll sleep on the Falcon. Goodnight, Leia."

"Do you even know where the Falcon is?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Han's jaw squared, but he said nothing.

"I didn't think so. You'll never find your way there tonight. Or back here again tomorrow, for that matter. I'd have to send Jaina after you."

"Well..." he started, trailing off with a lame shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know-"

"Stay."


	22. Chapter 22

_AN: I am now unhappily back from sunny Cancun to cold snowy Canada. suck. This at least brightened up my day.  
>If you read, please review!<br>_

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><p>"Stay."<p>

"Leia-"

"Stay," she repeated quietly, calmly; watching as he breathing hitched and uncertainty flitted across his eyes. He looked away from her, glancing towards the door, face hard as if sensing a trap.

Leia sat unmoving, waiting for his decision. She knew he wanted to. But she knew this man and no amount of time could changed him fundamentally. Han had always carried with him a very disciplined set or morals.

No matter what he wanted, honour and an ingrained sense of duty would now dictate his actions.

These qualities, Leia often made note, were admirable. They had been something she hadn't expected. Who would have thought a smuggler, a hunted pirate no less, would be so governed by a set of self-imposed guidelines.

On Yavin4, honour had brought him back, at first for an ideal, he needed something to believe in.

The plight of the Rebellion, his friendship with Luke and even perhaps, her.

Duty had kept him.

Love had saved them both in the end.

Yes, she closed her eyes softly, smiling to herself. Great qualities, but it was also highly annoying at times.

It was the same duty and honour which kept him from taking 'advantage' of her in the hanger following the liberation of Coruscant. She had wanted him, badly, that evening. Wine and exotic liquors had flowed a little too freely that evening, and in his own words, it would have been almost criminal to give into any demands she had made of him all evening. Drunk off victory and made bold by countless toasts, she spent a good part of the late evening, perched on his lap, whispering erotic fantasies into his ear, nipping lightly at his neck, luxuriating in the way he shifted under her; unaware and uncaring of the attention they were drawing.

He had known and had done his best to protect her from herself.

Although, she consolidated herself with the next day, accompanied by a pounding headache and stiffened pride, Han also had a lot more experience 'holding his liquor' as he so gracefully it it.

She understood and appreciated that sense of honour better after watching the holo the Rogues had filmed - which now sat forgotten on the dresser across from them - her state of intoxication would certainly have been alarming and definitely a cause for concern. She remembered attempting to explain - unsuccessfully - to Han that evening, it didn't matter that she was drunk since they were in a loving and committed relationship, and what was a little wine compared to that? It didn't work however, he gallantly succeeded in avoiding her drunken seduction attempts and managed, after quite of bit of coaxing, to get her into bed and asleep.

She learned later that after he had gotten her off to sleep, he had tracked down the culprits responsible for her current state, tore a strip off them and had came back to hold her through the night.

_Yes, honour he does have_, she thought shyly as she continued watching his struggle in silence.

"Han, please," she whispered. It wasn't really a question, it was quieter then that. It was a request. She needed him, and one look at his heated hazel eyes told her he knew it.**  
><strong>

As soon as that last soft small word left her lips he felt what small amount of self-control he had left disintegrate.

_Han, please._ The sound of those words swam happily through his body.

"Leia, I... I don't know. Are you sure? What about the kids, what about..." he trailed off, gesturing almost helplessly to the bedroom door. Her face fell subtly, quickly righting itself again in an instant, but he had seen it. The fear etched behind those brown eyes, wide and silent, staring at him.

"Just hold me. Please, I don't want to be alone tonight. Please? Stay?" her voice was small. Much smaller then he had ever heard it.

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure." she nodded, sitting a little straighter as he moved quietly over to where she sat. Reaching out, he fingered her hair, running his fingers through it, listening to her breathing hitch and quicken.

"Are you sure that you're sure?" he whispered, bending his head to hers, breathing in her scent.

"Yes." And with that, she stretched her mouth to meet his.


	23. Chapter 23

_AN: If you read, please review!  
><em>

_AN2: Happy 2013, everyone! All the best!_

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><p>He awoke alone.<p>

Stretching with exaggerated slowness; in a vain effort to allow his thoughts to catch up, he took into account the disheveled state of the bed surrounding him. Sheets tangled around his legs, pillows tossed off the side; heaped unneeded on the floor beside him.

He mindlessly grasped at the vacant place beside him. The place she had been.

Han closed his eyes, basking in the glossy memories from the night before. Her hands. Her mouth. Her eyes. Everything about her burned into him. The way she moved over him; under him. The way her breath caught each time he nuzzled her neck. The way she whispered his name.

He had never been _here_ before. He had made love to her, yes, but never like _that_. Last night had been different. She wasn't a score and he wasn't a secret. They both knew what this meant.

He blew out a slow breath. _Yes_. This meant something alright. How long had it been since anything he had done had meant something? _Like this?_ His sub-conscience sneered at him. _Never_!

Snorting, he heaved himself out of bed and reached for his trousers tangled in the mound of discarded clothing from the night before. After locating a shirt and cycling the bedroom door open, he was greeted by laughter and small voices chirping happily from the landing below. The sound of small feet dashed back and forth down the hallway, faint crashes and giggles followed as chaos hailed from below his feet.

Leia passed him as he descended the last stair, carrying two small duffel bags in the crook of her left arm as the right held a purple satchel and a datapad. She greeted him with a discreet smile and a quick eye-roll as she went by, adding the items to the large pile of luggage and bags near the door.

At that moment, Jacen crashed into him. Han steadied the boy by the shoulders, grinning down at him.

"Whoa, slow down Champ. You should watch where you're going or you'll take someone out."

Jacen wrapped himself in panicked excitement around Han's legs, shrieking as Jaina burst giggling from the hallway. Jacen yelled in surprise and bounced lightly from foot to foot laughing, "Help! She's chasing me, Dad!"

Jaina stopped abruptly, humour gone from her breathless features, staring openly dumbfounded at her twin. Jacen stilled and swallowed carefully, quickly looking away to his mother who had also stopped, watching the scene with quiet interest.

"Hey, Kiddo, that's okay. No harm done." Han crouched in front of Jacen, adopting a casual face. His young son regarded him for a few minutes before offering him small smile.

"Jaya, do you remember how to message Traffic and forward them flight plans?" Leia asked, walking up behind Han and gently brushing Jacen's hair through her fingers.

"Of course I do. Daddy showed me lots of times." The pride evident in her voice, Jaina tilted her chin slightly.

"Clever girl," Leia smiled warmly at her daughter. "Our itinerary is sitting on my computer, would you be able to send it over and let Traffic know we will be leaving before noon?"

Nodded enthusiastically, Jaina skipped happily off down to her mother's office, Jacen trailing behind her.

"You okay?" Han asked quietly when they were out of sight.

"Yes, I'm fine. You?"

Ignoring the flipped question, Han narrowed his eyes at her. _Liar_, he thought. "You sure?"

Her smile faltered only for a moment. Perhaps simply because she was so used to being able to be vulnerable around him, but the uncertainly and the worry were certaibly there.

"I'm okay. Really. Just busy packing. That's all. Really I'm fine."

"You can talk to me, you know." He stepped towards her, to his surprise and her credit, she didn't back down.

"I know I can. But... not here. Not right now." She looked down at his palm moving to caress her cheek then glanced quickly over towards the hallway where the twins had disappeared and swallowed hard.

"Okay," He dropped his hand which had been traveling on its own accord towards her face.

"I just have a few more things to put together then we can on our way."

* * *

><p>Exhausted, Leia collapsed heavily onto Anakin's bed. Sleep hadn't found her that night. Although, she chided herself as memories of her after-hours activities flitted across her mind, that should hardly come as a surprise.<p>

Staring across the familiar room, focusing briefly on the various animal and plant posters Jacen had amassed over the years which decorated his side of the room, she allowing herself a moment to understand the depth of her actions over the last day.

Han had fallen asleep before her, an event which in itself would have been odd if indeed circumstances weren't as they are. Her Han had developed a strange habit over their many years together of not being able to fall asleep before she did. It had started simply enough in the very early days of their relationship, Gods only knew exactly why now, but it was something that had stuck.

In the dark, she had listened to the even breathing of the man beside her.

They hadn't spoken, they hadn't seemed to need to.

But now...

_Now_.

The word pounded through her head, a resounding incantation a darkness from the deep reaching corners of her mind hissed to her, which she could not silence.

_Now_.

_Now what!?_ She had silently screamed back into the night. A shiver ran through her as she let herself sink into the mattress while her other hand searched carefully for any sign of a pillow or blanket corner. The warm familiar body beside her nestled into her, gathering her to him, as if in silent answer to the cold sweeping through her. _  
><em>

She had ached to push away from him. To curl up; hide herself away. But that wouldn't have been fair. She choked down a sob.

Han stirred and her breath caught in her throat.

He had been right.

Right about everything, the kids, herself, her husband, him, everything good; both present and future.

She had hurt them all.

He had stood there before her as a choice. He had been right. He should have gone; stayed away. Perhaps she should have left, she mused, but it didn't matter now. She had asked him, and like so many times before, he had stayed for her.

Bended and broken whatever rules he had set out, for her.

She hadn't thought; and now, here they were.

"Damn," she whispered and squeezed her eyes closed, focusing on her rapidly increasing heartbeat. She had to calm down. She'd upset the kids if she continued like this, and Gods knew _that_ wasn't exactly what she needed right now.

_No_, she thought, squaring herself and rising from the bed,_ I need to get my family back together. We need to leave as soon as possible._


	24. Chapter 24

_AN: Confession time - I have absolutely no idea how long it would actually take to travel from Coruscant to Kashyyyk (provided you have a working hyperdrive) - so I'm using my artist card again and saying around eight hours.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Managing to escape the air of heightened excitement - which had been radiating off the three, rambunctious children in the main hold since early that morning - Han sat in the cockpit half listening to the chatter from Traffic.<p>

He ran his hand over the worn leather armrests for the twenty time, still unable to believe he was actually going to fly her. He tried to remember the serious of the situation, and why exactly he was getting ready to head off-world. But, at the moment, all of that was slightly overshadowed by the ship he was going to be making the journey with. His ship.

Leaning far forward, he picked up the brown leather piloting gloves from down near the viewscreen and slid them on. A perfect fit. But of course they were, he scoffed at himself. They were _his_ after all. Sitting back again, he wondered where he had gotten them. Were they a token from his life before all of this, something he had always had with him? Or perhaps they were a more recent gift from Leia. He realized quickly that he oddly found himself hoping for the latter. Turning his hands over he studied the darkened patch on his right palm, obviously well worn from gripping the various levers and joysticks laid out in front of him. He would wear these, perhaps through countless battles, family vacations and daring escapes. The thought was comforting.

The Falcon was hot and waiting for clearance as Leia strode through the cockpit door a quarter of an hour later and fell with exaggerated heaviness into the co-pilot seat. Smirking at her, revealed by the casual, peaceful air which had fallen around them once again, he opened his mouth to comment on her current state of dishevelment, but she was too quick, expertly cutting him off.

"Not one word from you, Solo. Corralling those three," she pointed vaguely over her shoulder at the closed door, "hooligans is not a task for the faint-of-heart. But! They're in one piece, seated and - for the moment - strapped in. Ready to move?"

"Sure. We're cleared for take off in just under five minutes. Oh, and there's a message for you," he added, pointing to the control panel across from her.

"Shoot! Is it from Luke? I was supposed to call him back."

"I have no idea. It's coded," Han shrugged.

"Right. Of course it is." She muttered and keyed in a series of numbers, sitting forward as a disembodied lyrical voice of a woman rang out clearly in the small space.

"Leia, I've been worried about you. I left a message for you at home, but I haven't heard from you since Friday night. I'm a bit worried. Is everything okay?"

"Wow. I really am on a roll this weekend." Leia muttered, flipping to the next message.

"It's me. Where are you going? Are you okay? I'm still looking into finding Vima, nothing yet, but I'll keep digging. Call me back."

"How does he know you're going somewhere?" Han asked, mildly irritated again by this Luke character. _What, does he have her Loca-Chipped or something?_

"Jedi twin thing," Leia answered distractedly as she flipped a quick note back to Winter then to Luke.

"You're a twin?"

The astonished look on his face made her laugh. Leia nodded, leaning back in the over-sized copilots chair she studied him. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting you don't know me. This is so strange."

"I know that something was bothering you this morning." The mood changed swiftly from lighthearted to veiled with unspoken fears.

"Yeah... well. I'm just trying to get my head around all of this. I'm okay now. I was just having a moment."

Han merely nodded, not believing her. Something had upset her, and he was determined to find out what it was. Just, right now wasn't the time.

"Well, knowing this Baby I'm guessing we have just under eight standard hours of peace and quiet for me to get to know you better."

"Are we there yet!?" A chorus of half giddy voices suddenly broke the atmosphere in the cockpit. Han laughed as Leia visibly relaxed.

"Keep your hair on, guys! We're almost on our way." He called back, ignoring the comm as Leia shook her head in surrender.

"Oh, you've done it now." she warned quietly, smirking at the controls.

"Done what?"

"You've said 'almost'; you never tell them 'almost'."

"What about now?" Jacen's challenge came yelling back as soon as the explanation had crossed her lips.

"Told you."

"Once you've all counted to one thousand, we can go." Han called back, unable to stop the grin from slowly creeping across his face.

"That's impossible. No one can count to one thousand!" Jaina shouted back happily.

"I have to pee!" Anakin's voice joined in.

"I'm sorry, you were saying about eight hours of peace and quiet? What ship are you traveling on?"


	25. Chapter 25

_AN: Thank you to my chapter beta, Fettkat! You rock! R&R please. Cheers.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Chewbacca sat unmoving and silent long after the end of the story; something which Han didn't appreciate. It had always made him a bit nervous when Chewie did that, and at this particular moment - when the still silence was actually being aimed <em>at<em> him - it was making him very nervous. Leia had flitted almost nervously between him and Chewbacca throughout the entire story, sitting only for a moment before standing and pacing again, as if unsure whom she should be standing closest to, unable to decide where her support should be given.

The children had been ferried off by Malla almost as soon as they had landed, under the promise of warm honey cakes and dew water, leaving the three of them to find a quiet, shaded terrace on the north side of the giant wroshyr tree.

His discomfort had started as they were heading to the terrace, Leia and Chewie were walking together a few paces ahead of him, when the disquieting thought of Leia knowing Chewie better then he did crept into his mind. Sure, the Wookiee owed him a life-debt and he was almost sure Chewie wouldn't do anything too sudden or concerning. But the small percentage of doubt made his step falter slightly.

He had been with Chewie for nearly a full standard year in his actual life. But Leia, she had been a part of Chewie's world for nearly fifteen years. Chewie had been there through the entirety of her relationship with him, or would be, or however the whole time thing worked, he shook his head once to clear it and looked up towards the clear deep-blue sky. Chewie had been there when the children were born, watched them grow, saved them from all the horrors and near-misses they had ducked over the years.

Leia had laughed then, still talking quietly with Chewbacca, and he was able to catch a whiff of the conversation ahead of him. She was recounting a incident with the boys the weekend before. Before he suddenly appeared in her life,_ in her bed!_ he had thought smugly before he could stop himself; before he messed things up.

Chewie, still silent, suddenly stood. With a long look between the two of them, he strode over to Leia, quickly clearing the distance towards her in four strides. Leia seemed to collapse against him as he wrapped long arms around her. He gruffed a quiet response to a question Han hadn't heard and slowly pulled the small woman down to sit beside him on the balcony bench.

"Leia?" Han asked when he couldn't take the tension anymore.

"I'm alright."

"You don't look alright. Can I do anything?"

Chewie barked at him and Han threw his hands up in annoyed defense. "Look, pal! I didn't ask for this to happen! I never wanted to hurt her!" Chewie growled again, and Han stepped forward jabbing a finger in his friend's direction. "You think this has been easy on me? You think it's fun to wake up somewhere you don't recognize with a woman you don't know?!" Han shouted. "Low blow, Chewie. Very low." he sneered as Chewie's growling continued to escalate in volume. "Oh yeah, that's right! Blame me! Nice to see where your loyalty lies! Do you even care how I'm dealing with all this? No, you don't." Han shouted, quickly answering his own question. Chewie stood and tossed up his arms, roaring in anger. Han was about to shout back an angry remark when Leia interceded.

"Stop it! Both of you. This is ridiculous. We have enough to worry about without my having to stand between the pair of you as well." Leia stood, angry now at the scene she was having to break up. Chewie's growling died down instantly, though he continued to glare at Han. "Chewie?" Leia quieted, touching his arm lightly. Han silently counted to all the way to eight before the Wookiee broke his gaze and turned his attention to the small woman beside him, softening visibly. "I know the message I left you yesterday was brief, and I do apologize for dropping this on you, I just didn't want to send this whole mess via comm-message," she offered him a weak smile before she continued. "But I was hoping you would help me - help us," she gestured to Han. "We need to fix this, we have to try."

Chewie growled a low answer, of course he would help them - she didn't have to ask, which Han was thankful for. Perhaps now he could get onto better terms with his friend.

"Thank you," Leia replied, straightening and squaring her shoulders back. "Right," she said with a quick tilt of her chin, obviously having decided to put herself in charge of the operation - a move, Han noticed that didn't seem to faze his tall, hairy friend. She must do this a lot, he thought as he watched Leia transform into a figure of action, determination and clarity etched in her delicate features. "Now that you've heard our problem, I'll tell you my plan."

**XxX**

Chewbacca listened steadily to Leia as she recounted the action plan she and Han had discussed the day before, and as the sun settled across the treetops surrounding them, it was decided they would leave first thing the next morning. Chewie agreed the children would stay with Malla, and provided the children hadn't already done so, he would relate the entire story to her tonight. Chewie also estimated it would likely take a standard week to have everything set back to right. Han kept his doubts to himself, though, on that score. It seemed to him, highly optimistic - not to mention unlikely - to assume they would be able to get to Nar Shaddaa, locate the crazy witch, convince her to change him back, actually be changed and arrive back on Kashyyyk, either with him or with the other him, within a week. But, for better or worse, it was the best plan they had been able to piece together, and the look on Leia's face as she figured out timelines, traffic tariffs and accommodation arrangements with Chewie was not something he was prepared to go up against.

Having the first opportunity to be left alone for with her for the first time in nearly twenty hours, Han hung back as Chewie lumbered back down the ramp towards his home. Walking slowly up behind her as she leaned against the railing, he tried to take her all in. It was impossible of course. Someone like her couldn't be captured in just one moment or memory. It would take a lifetime to do that, maybe longer, and they didn't have that kind of time just yet.

Sensing someone behind her, she turned to face him.

"You seem better," he observed quietly staying where he was several paces from her down the rail, leaning against it, facing her.

"I am. I feel... hopeful, I guess. Are you okay? Being shouted at by an angry Wookiee isn't all that fun."

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Not the first time, won't be the last." he grinned slightly, trying to judge her mood through the growing darkness. When she didn't answer he continued, "I can't believe how you could ever be on the receiving end of that though." he tilted his head in the direction Chewie had disappeared to.

Leia laughed once and played with the grain in the wooden rail under her hands. "Oh, once or twice I have been. He's highly protective of the both of us. I think we annoy him sometimes. Well, maybe not anymore," she looked over at him gesturing loosely. "But I think we use to. A lot."

"Oh yeah?" _What could she possible have done to warrant being yelled at by Chewie?_

Leia only nodded, pushing back from the railing.

"We should head in before dark. I'll give Malla a hand with dinner, you really should talk to Chewie."


	26. Chapter 26

_AN: We haven't seen Other Han in a while, have we? Well, let's check in on him._

* * *

><p>The scheduled jump to Tatooine wasn't a long one. Stars lengthened and spread out around them. <em>It never had been a long jump<em>, Han thought as he released the lever and sat back distracted; their trip was made shorter now by the absence of yet another planet. His stomach twisted painfully.

Lando rose, slapped the back of Han's chair causing the pilot to jump and glare at his traveling companions. Chewie barked in silent agreement to Lando's motion; stood, stretching his arms over his head, following him out.

Lumbering behind Lando, Chewie was lost in thought when the human in front of him sharply ducked into the galley and spun around face incredulous, pointing in the direction they had just come. Chewie towered over him, growling low and angry.

"What?! No! He was totally fine when I left him last night." Chewie growled again. "I ducked out early. I had... something I wanted to... do." The wookiee stepped closer, pushing Lando further through the galley.

"Hey! I wouldn't have left him if he had been acting like this! Come on. Last I saw, he was chatting up some leggy brunette. I didn't _need_ to hang around to see how _that_ would end." Lando hissed back at the angry co-pilot in front of him.

Chewie huffed an agreement. No one needed to do _that_. It was always the same. He sat back against the cool counter and stretched his neck to the side. Something had set Han off. Maybe it _was_ the woman from the night before, but that was highly unlikely. Han hadn't let himself get tangled up in anyone since the Bria disaster. And was close to 20 years ago. Han had learned a lot of things in those 20 years. How to not get involved was one of them. A major one. _But_, Chewie thought, as Lando stood in agitated silence beside him, _involved was exactly how Han is acting._

**xXx**

Han's knuckles rapped against the console in front of him. Drumming out a random rhythm as he watched the hyperspace count tick by with aching slowness. _  
><em>

With a snap-hiss the cockpit door slid open. Chewie grumbled unhappily, muttering something about the watercycler, and collapsed heavily into the co-pilot seat. Han gave him a quick look before turning his attention back to the mottled assortment of knobs, buttons and dials spread out before him.

"Chewie," he started quietly, causing the giant wookiee to turn and face him. Han didn't take his eyes off the controls, fearful of the truth to the question he was about to ask. "Do you remember our stint in the Mos Eisley spaceport? Would have been around the same time Alderaan was destroyed." Chewie huffed an acknowledgement. Of course he remembered that day, who didn't?

"Right. Well, I don't," Han ran his hands lightly over the yolk. His companion was silent for a moment, then growled low; questioning and confused.

"I just-" Han cut himself off, looking down where the ratted sweater resting in his lap and swallowed hard. "I just want to know what's happening, that's all."

Chewie said nothing. Han glanced back at the countdown clock, grimaced and continued, "On Mos Eisley, the farm kid and the old man..." he trailed off to Chewie's subtle head shake. "We didn't. Did we?" Chewie shook once again and cocked his head to the side, whining low in his throat.

"Oh. Right." He nodded slowly as the implication of those actions threatened to stop dead his heart. He had denied them. No advance payment, no ride. "Did they catch another ship?" Han asked, his voice dropping even lower and nodded to Chewie's affirmative answer.

Yes, someone had gotten them off-world.

But he hadn't been the one to do it. He hadn't been there to get Leia off that Death Star. He wasn't there to blow the Imperial fighters off Luke's tail, if indeed the kid had even made it to Yavin4 - but this twisted version of history would suggest he did, as Tarkin had apparently blown it up too.

He wasn't there for any of it.

Imperial rule had continued; the Rebellion crushed. Luke dead. Leia... Leia? What had happened to her? She was scheduled to be killed before they had found her. Had she been? His fingers tightened around the sweater, crushing the fabric; the feel of the worn material scraping across his skin.

He wouldn't fall in love with her, marry her; never have his three amazing children. So much had rested on his decision that day; a life he would never have.

Han took a shaking breath and ran his naked hand over his face, hissing in pain as he touched his nose again. No one would care that it was broken. Leia wouldn't raise her eyebrow at him in a silent rebuke, and he wouldn't have to make up a heroic story to explain it - _not that she would have believed my story anyway,_ he thought wistful, painfully.

He was alone.

He had fulfilled his own hollow prophecy.

Solo.


	27. Chapter 27

_AN: onwards through the writer's fog. Sidenote though, I will be finishing this story, hopefully quickly and without months worth of delay, so please don't worry. I haven't abandoned it or you. :)  
><em>

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><p>The steady hum of the hyperdrive reverberated peacefully through the main cabin while Leia starred at the bulkhead above her and tried, rather fruitlessly, to fall asleep. It had been an eventful evening. She rolled her eyes at herself. Who was she kidding? It had been an eventful few days.<p>

It had been years since she had felt like an outsider on this ship. Nearly over a decade. But here she was; back again. Lying alone in the main cabin quarters, fixated on the ceiling, eyes mindlessly tracing inordinate patterns from the small rivets in the metal. She had left them, quietly talking; reminiscing perhaps, about days gone by and days yet to come. Sitting circled up at the computer terminal, fingers drifting softly across the various dials, buttons and small outlets, listening to Chewie's gruff laughter and Han's familiar laugh, watching the way his eyes lit up and his head turned slightly sideways as he smiled. Leia had watched them like this before -before they were what had become. It would be different now. It should be different now, she argued with herself. Instead of sitting apart from them, he would have her half curled on his knee, an arm draped protectively around her while his fingers traced daring circles on her legs, his warm breath on her neck as she listened to the steady thudding of his heart.

But he didn't. And he couldn't. And this was beginning to become too much for her. Feeling further away from the life she had know for so long, a life that she loved and never really quite felt that she deserved. Now though, her past was sitting in the lounge; a man she had known without fully understanding at first. She had grown to love him and aspired to live up to what he thought she was. He had been, and was still, someone she always wanted to deserve.

A knock on the door startled her.

"Yes?" Her voice sounded strained and crackling even to her own ears.

A cough followed by a throat clearing which sounded like "Leia" reply back through the door.

"You can come in," she stated, eyes resolutely fixed forwards.

The door slid open with a familiar whoosh, and light flooded into the small space. Footsteps padded slowly towards her and over her top lashes she could only just make out the top of his head.

"I thought you were asleep," he stated lamely.

"That was the plan, but..." she trailed off, waving a hand as if to illustrate an apparent point. _He hasn't changed,_ _stop being a bitch! _she snapped at herself as they stayed in awkward silence for a brief moment. She couldn't explain it. Seeing him the way he was in the lounge this evening had changed something somehow. He was back to who he was before her. Before them. Sure, he looked like her husband, the father of her three perfect children. But he wasn't. He had a different way of looking at the worlds around him, at responsibility, at life. He had seen a lot of the seedier side of what was out there, that hadn't changed. But would a handful of days as a father and husband change him, really? She had been kidding herself to think that it would. He was still what he always thought he wanted. He was solo.

"What?" Han snapped. _Ah, that's more like it,_ Leia thought as she quirked an eyebrow involuntarily. That tone was fitting for how she was feeling. Short and annoyed, it was a tone he had taken with her much of their first three or so years together. She sighed. This was going to get them where it always had: nowhere.

She sat up quickly and folding her legs underneath of her. Twisting her fingers around a few times, she brought them to rest on her lap. When she finally met his eyes, his expression softened.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that. You alright?"

She nodded, offering him a weak smile. "I'm sorry too," she whispered. "Yes. I'm okay. Just tired. It's been an - interesting day."

Laughing softly, Han leaned against the storage locker above her head. "That it has. Chewie and I have a lot of catching up to do. It's strange though, listening to stories about events haven't happened yet."

"What was he telling you about?" she asked, desperately trying to keep the mood light.

"Oh, I don't know, everything. The Falcon. The kids and all the stuff they get into. You."

"Me?" she sat up, attentive now.

"Yeah." Han shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking almost guilty.

"What about me?"

Han paused and looked down at his feet, swallowing.

"Tell me." she urged, trying to put a teasing tone on her request.

"When you were out the other night - or rather - when you abandoned me with my three future children to go out drinking with your friends," he winked at her as she opened her mouth to interject. "I did some, research, trying to figure out who you were and who I had become. There's a lot of stuff out there about us. I just wanted to know a bit more, that's all."

"You could have asked me, you didn't have to go running to Chewie. I wouldn't have minded."

"I know," he straighten up and ran a hand through his hair.

"What did you want to know?" Curiosity was getting the better of her.

"Who's Isolder?"

_Damn. _


	28. Chapter 28

_AN: Thank you Thank you to my beta, AmaraZ. You rock. As always.  
>AN2: Trying a new perspective for a bit in here, just a heads up.<br>Fett - a little something for you I'm thinking. Not exactly what you wanted, but think of it as a precursor. Cheers.  
><em>

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><p>Han continued to stare at her, eyes slightly narrowed as if in challenge.<p>

Silence stretched on between them.

_Damn. You need to say something. Come on! Say anything. He is staring at you. You are making this worse. Anything you say will be better than this silence! Say something now! _"Nobody important." Leia whispered, trying and failing to sound unconcerned.

"Oh really? So this non-important person was so unimportant, that you considered marrying him, while you were actually in a long-term, committed, loving relationship with me?"

_Nice going. Silence would have been better than that. You are an idiot. _But what could she say? In a way, he was right, that was exactly what had happened, but on the other hand... Leia opened and closed her mouth a few time. She and Han had cleared the air surrounding this diabolical mistake years ago; when they became parents. They had also both agreed to never bring it up again. But here she was, sitting in the same place as when they traveled home from that backwater planet. Trying to explain away an action which very nearly destroyed them both.

And again she couldn't do it.

Her breathing broke and hitched as she recalled his face, swollen and bruised from the abuse leveled at him as he once again placed her life above his own, eyes angry and full of painful betrayal. Safely back in the Falcon, en-route back to Coruscant, Chewie's ferocious anger still ringing in her ears, she had locked herself away with him, in his cabin - it hadn't feel right to call it theirs - to beg, plead and cry herself back into his arms.

She had been prepared for his anger. Expected it. Welcomed it. He was entitled to it.

She half expected him to order her out of his site, to take off and never look back. He didn't of course, he sat in silence - much like he was now - exhausted from pacing and worrying, simply watching her.

"Why did you want to ask about that? That's not between you and I. That's between me and, well, you." She stated, nose rising a little with the defensive undertone her question had taken on. She knew defensive wasn't the way to go, but she also couldn't very well shrug it off either. _Ironic,_ she thought. _Old Han Solo brings out old Leia Organa._

"It seemed like an important peice of our history. And I wasn't going to ask you about it."

"You just did." She pointed out.

"No, I confronted you with it. There's a difference." Han snapped, jabbing a finger at her. That did it.

"Stop. Please, just stop. I don't want to do this. We did this for years. It's exhausting. Just leave. Go back to Chewie. Just leave me alone."

* * *

><p>Chewbacca sat alone in the lounge, paws strumming heavily on the holochess table, eyes steady and unfocused on the chair which had, up until a moment ago, been occupied by his friend. The conversation Han had started was bothering him. He couldn't shake he feeling that he had thrown Leia under the bantha. It hadn't been his place to discuss Leia's marriage - even if it was to his best friend.<p>

He gruffed quietly to himself.

She had been holding herself together, at least outwardly. But he knew her well enough to know an escape when he saw one. Keeping her face neutral, eyes fixed on nothing, she compulsively ran her fingers over the controls.

She had been uncomfortable. He recognized it now that she was gone, fled to the safety of her cabin. Making a quiet exit, she had risen and stepped around the two of them, as she had so many times in what felt like another lifetime ago.

A life where it had been just the two of them; pilots, pirates, partners.

That wasn't really accurate though, she had always been there, right from the start, even when she hadn't realized it or seen Han's attention for what it was.

She wasn't like the others before her; she had never tried to keep Han for herself - she never stood between them, even though she was always there.

Leia was an exception to nearly every rule, for both himself and Han. She always came first - until she and Han had their children; altering the rules once more - no matter the circumstance. It had happened instantly, although it would take a while for each party to see it.

Deep in the bowels of the Death Star's trash compacting unit - the first misadventure in a long list of trouble the pair of them have been able to find over the years - Han pushed her above himself - saving her, helping her. Much to Chewie's disbelief - the action was instinctive, deliberate and noteworthy. It happened again when they came back to Yavin4. Han wouldn't admit it, perhaps even now - stubborn as he was - but it had been Leia then and it it had never stopped being Leia since.

Chewie stood, ready to save Leia from Han's not-quite-misplaced anger, when the sound of the main cabin door sliding open stopped him. Han stomped down the corridor as the door sealed itself once more. Pointing angrily in the direction he had come from, Han sputtered something about how impossible his future wife is and how no one could possibly have a rational argument with her.

As Han strode away towards the cockpit, Chewie sighed, moving his shoulders back and stretching, Malla was right, again. Sometimes, when you least expect it, your past will walk right back through the door and make another long space-jump nearly unbearable.

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><p>Sidenote: wow, writing Chewie isn't as easy as you would think it is. phew.<p> 


	29. Chapter 29

_AN: Extra long to make up for lost time. cheers. -z_

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><p><em>Stupid space jockey, s<em>he fumed, glaring angrily at the ceiling. It made sense, in the same strange, twisted way her life always managed to be able to bite her in the ass when she was least expecting it.

They had been pretending to be the same people: a family, a team, in love and happy. Which was wrong. He wasn't the same. Perhaps in all the important areas he was essentially the correct outline of the man she knew and loved, but so much was missing.

So, here they were. Back to life during the war. Spitting and striking at each other. Unable to find the right words and sending all the wrong ones flying. He had meant what he had said to her, he was angry and he had no right to be. Suddenly everything felt to small. This ship, which had become a symbol and source of freedom for both of them was now confining and uncomfortable.

Just like before.

She sat up. How dare he. How _dare_ he! Who was he to make her feel unwelcome in her own ship.

Well, her husband's ship.

His ship.

Whatever.

She wasn't putting up with it. This was far more her home then his; perhaps he needed to be reminded of that. Stooping to grab her sweater off the floor, she marched out barefoot into the cold, quiet hallway. Clearing the distance to the main hold quickly while tugging the ratty garment over her head she found Chewie where she had left him, sitting quietly gazing unseeingly at the holochess table. He looked up when she entered and pointed uncomfortably to the cockpit.

She would deal with him later, right now she had her pilot chair to reclaim - no doubt - and a self-righteous smuggler to knock down a few pegs.

Stopping outside of the door, and took a few deep breaths. She wasn't used to doing battle with him anymore, it was getting to her nerves. "Pull yourself together Organa - er, Solo. Oh perfect," she growled at herself, "I'm forgetting who I am now. Excellent."

**xXx**

The door hissed open behind him, revealing a very small, very angry woman dressed - again - in an old ratty sweater and leggings, hands planted on her hips, chin tilted up defiantly. He bearly had time to wonder why she always wore that oversized sweater when she had the money to wear pretty much whatever she liked., before she raised an eyebrow at him and dulled his question. He had seen the clothes lining the shared closet in their room - her room - likely hundreds of thousands of credits worth of gowns, silks and wools from each corner of the galaxy. But, for well over half the time he had seen her dressed, she had chosen to wear that. Odd.

"Firstly, you are in my seat. Kindly move."

Whoa. He snapped out of his tangent, his brain wandering to what other clothes he had seen her in - and out of.

"I'm what?"

"In my seat." She tilted her chin higher slightly.

"Your seat? How'd you figure?"

"Simple. This is not your ship. It is, in fact, my ship. And by extension my seat."

"Really? So you must be the legendary Captain Solo! What an honour."

"I am the wife of General Han Solo, of the New Republic military navy. Seeing as the _General_ is unavailable at the moment, that does, in fact, make it _my_ seat. So I will ask you once more to move."

Rendered momentarily speechless, Han narrowed his eyes at her and slid into the over-sized copilots chair.

They stared at each other for a few long seconds before Han broke the silence by gesturing to the now vacant seat. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"No, not just yet."

"Then why-"

"That is not your seat. It's mine. Perhaps the solution to our problem, one of our problems - I should say, is the need for clear boundaries. For example, that is my chair, not yours. Do not pretend differently."

"You're being childish." He accused, jaw twitching ever so slightly.

"No, I'm not. Childish would be telling you that _all_ the chairs are mine. A fact I should know since I am currently in the middle of raising three children."

There was nothing to say to that, so he shrugged as if he didn't care and waited for her to continue the speech she clearly needed to make.

"Now that's settled. I want to apologize for my behaviour." He gaped at her. This wasn't what he was expecting.

"Well-"

"No, please let me finish," she held up a small hand, slightly covered by the long baggy sleeve. It was distracting, he wished she would take it off. There would be much less need for speeches if she would. Leia lowered the half hidden hand and tilted her head at him. Embarrassed by his thoughts he nodded at her, shifting in his chair. She had had his thoughts all over the place this evening, he didn't know where to start to begin sorting them out.

"I need to apologize for the way I have been behaving with you over the last few days. I wanted- well, I'm not really sure what I was hoping to achieve, but I feel like I have created this, at least in some part, and I am sorry for it. I never should have continued things between us when I found out what had happened, it was very wrong and I hope you can forgive me."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was actually. You wouldn't have stayed with me if I hadn't asked you to, I did that. I changed the moved the goal post and didn't once think of how you would react. The thing is, my husband and I have our history, but we don't have ghosts or skeletons. We've been through far too much for either of those. I love him and he loves me. I'm not saying we haven't had our issues or our problems to sort out, of course we have. But, they are ours and ours alone.

"You see, we were like this before. Spiteful and cruel to each other. I'm still not exactly sure why - perhaps because it was easier than admitting what was really happening to us. I don't know and it doesn't matter. My point is, I know I created the problem. I made you think we were something we aren't. I made you feel that you had some sort of right to confront me - as you put it - over issues in my marriage which, to me and my husband, are over and dealt with. I made you feel like you have some sort of claim on me, some right to know me in a way that only one person does. And I know it's confusing and it's hard because that person will be you. But you're not mine yet, and I'm not yours. Please don't forget that. I'm sorry again for my part of it."

The silence that followed was deafening. He had expected her anger, not this. Nodding at his silence, she turned to leave.

"I know you're not mine." He said quietly to her retreating back. She stopped but didn't turn to face him. "Do you?"

"Yes. And that kills me."

"It's killing me that _you_ aren't _mine_."

"Will you please look at me?" She shook her head no. "Leia. Please." Again her loose braid shook negative.

"Alright. Well, i suppose it's my turn, it's it? I'm sorry as well. It wasn't my place to delve into your life, let alone the private details in your marriage. I should never have pried. I'm sorry."

"That wasn't what I came in here to say to you." a tiny whisper replied and she turned to face him again, tears streaking her face and fingers tangled in the frayed ends of her sweater.

"What did you want to say?" He asked gently, wishing he could go to her, hold her, wipe her tears. But he couldn't. He was grounded to his seat by her earlier words. And whether she had meant to say them or not, they were true and formed a wall between them now.

"I wanted to tell you to piss off," she whispered again. Han laughed, large soulful bellows and after a moment, Leia nervously joined him, smiling shying. Forcing out a deep breath in an attempt to control himself, he gestured again to the seat beside him and was rewarded when she settled into it and swiveled around to face the stars streaking passed them."Can I tell you something?" She nodded once to his question. "Throughout my life, so far at least, anything worth having, I had to fight tooth and nail for. You very likely know my story," she nodded again at this and he continued. "Of course you do. But, I was thinking, maybe the reason I fought you so hard was because you were the best thing to every happen to me. And you were always worth the fight."


	30. Chapter 30

_AN: Poor Han, back on the dustball planet with a giant Hutt gangster who should be dead. Tough break. Let's check in with our beloved hero._

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><p>Twin desert suns beat down on the arid landscape.<p>

How long had it been since he has set foot on this wayward, sorry excuse for a planet? He couldn't remember, but whatever the answer, it wasn't half long enough.

They had been waiting for an audience for well over an hour, and Han's patience was coming to an end rather quickly. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Maybe he should have done a bit of digging by himself. Running back to the arms of a crime lord who had displayed him as a warning on the wall, enslaved his wife and condemned to death himself, his best friend, and his brother-in-law, wasn't perhaps the most thought through of actions.

"Rotten, no good, slimy piece of-" Chewie growled, annoyed by Han's mumbling.

"I have my reasons! And I don't care that we weren't expected until tomorrow. I'm here now, and I have things I need to get moving on." Han snapped at the giant wookiee and turned to his other side, where Lando sat. "Now, you're _sure_ I'm in good with him. You're sure."

"Oh for the love of-! Yes! For the hundredth and final time, yes. You're his golden child. The sun practically shines out your ass. Will you just shut up." Lando ran an hand down his face, eyes tired. He knew he was getting on everyone's nerves, they had been a rather tense party for the past several hours.

_Well tough_. Han though uncharitably. He didn't care if they were fed up with him. He was fed up with everything at the moment. He didn't understand what the hell was going on, and the idea of having lost Leia and his children was making him frantic. If anyone in this galaxy knew where she was, Jabba would be able to find out about it. And if it was true, and he was still Jabba's good graces, why was he having to wait so long to see him? The whole situation was making him jumpy.

Just then, a pale pink skinned man appeared in the long hallway before them and gestured for Han to follow. With one last glance at Chewbacca, and an order to go back to the Falcon and wait for him, he stood and followed the servant into the grand audience chamber. An unnatural feeling of foreboding came over Han, making him swallow hard.

_He's dead. He's dead. He's dead._ Han chanted to himself, keeping his eyes on the ground, trying to both keep his breathing under control and appear disinterested at the same time was proving nearly impossible.

"HAN!" The all too familiar booming voice of the giant Hutt sounded in front of him. Startled, he looked up and half choked.

"Jabba. It's... been a while," _not long enough, not even half long enough, _Han thought sneeringly at the large slug._ He's dead. He's dead. _His inner mantra started over again in a frenzy.

"Han! Han! I've missed you! I was expecting you back tomorrow!"

"Yeah? How much have you missed me?"

"Always business! Yunka!" Jabba boomed again. The pale skinned man appearing instantly by his side. _He_ _must be Yunka_. The man was carrying an envelope. A credit slip, he figured.

"Not money, Jabba. Not this time. I want something else." Jabba's large bulging eyes widened slightly and he laughed, motioning towards the back of the room. It took everything in him to not turn around. His senses were heightened and his body wound up far too tightly; the heavily scented smoke in the room toyed with his nostrils, overwhelming and pungent.

Something - someone - brushed passed him on his left, fingers trailed ever so lightly across his back and then came to a halt quietly behind him to his right. He still did not turn. Jabba gestured, and breathing deeply, steeling himself and cocked his head to side, Han caught a glimpse of the being standing demurely behind him. A slave girl. Dressed in bright red iridescent fabric which not only did not cover her in the slightest, but was also sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. Under the gazes from the many beings filling the chamber, the poor creature toyed nervously with the shackles encasing her slim wrists, eyes wide and frightened. Frightened of him, of what he would demand of her. Bile rose in his throat again. Could this have been Leia's fate, had the plan concocted by Lando and Luke not worked out? Would she have been doomed to a life of humiliating servitude? _Unlikely_, he tried to calm himself. _Leia would have found a way out, she's a fighter, she would never give up._ His train of thought was derailed as Jabba commanded the young woman accompany Han to the guest quarters - along with a few other suggestions which made him cringe.

Over the hissing of the repulsorsled the giant Hutt activated by way of a dismissal, Han started shouting, his heart hammering in his chest, palms sweaty, breath coming out rushed and ragged. This wasn't his life, it never had been his life. His life was full of hope, love and family. It wasn't lurking at the bottom of a bottle, or in the corner of a bar. And it most certainly wasn't enjoying the charms of a young slave girl thrown at him in payment for a job he no longer wanted any part of. _No_. This was all wrong.

"Jabba! Hey! No, stop! I just need information! Hey!" The Hutt started to slowly drift out of the antechamber waving a hand and calling for Han to return to talk to him in the morning.

"Now, Jabba! It can't wait!" He yelled again, and gestured sharply to the young woman standing beside him now, eyes hollow and empty. "I need to talk to you! I don't want her! Jabba!" But the Hutt was now gone, and he was being herded down a set of stairs which opened into a large gold leafed foyer. The young woman trailed behind him, wrist plates tingling slightly as she walked. _I might be sick_. Han thought, _I actually might throw up. I should never have come here. I should looked myself. _

A guard opened a large wooden door and gestured for the pair to enter. Standing his ground, Han shook his head_. _"Go get Jabba, I have things which need to be discussed. Now_._" Without a word, the enormous guard shoved him and the young woman through the door one after the other and retreated, activating the lock. Han paced wildly back and forth in front of the locked door. The locks, he knew were more to keep the unfortunate salves in the room with the inhabitants, to cut off escape risks, but also as a way to keep tabs on each 'guest' which frequented the large fortress.

"Perfect. Just great. Let me the FUCK out of here!" He screamed, picking up the nearest object and hurling it at the door. The pottery bowl shattered and splintered across the doorway. A quick inhale caught his attention, and he turned to face his next problem who was staring at him wide eyed and scared. Han quickly scanned the room, no windows. Of course not. He was a prisoner again. Just like the last time. Everything was falling apart.

"You can relax," Han sighed, slumping down to sit on the floor at the foot of the opulent bed. "I'm not going to touch you. And I certainly would never hurt you."

"Then... what are you going to do, Sir?"

Han sighed again, deeply this time and looked down at his fists still balled together. That was an excellent question. He had no idea. Leia would chide him: a_ plan for getting in.._. "I don't know. I haven't thought of it yet. Is there a robe or something in the bathroom?"

"Yes, Sir," she slipped out on her toes and returned a moment later with a pile of black cotton draped in her arms.

"Good. Put it on."

"But, Sir, I-"

"I said put it on. And stop. Stop with the 'Sir' thing, please."

"But... that would be disrespectful, Sir. If His Highness found out... I'm sorry, Sir. I can't. Please." Her voice was amping in volume and her face was growing even more pale beneath the heavy bright makeup she wore as she swam her arms through the vast amount of fabric and tied the sash at her waist.

"Hey, it's okay, relax. Breath. It's okay. We're okay. What's your name?"

"What would like my name to be, Sir?"

"I want to know your name. What did your parents call you?" he snapped. This was getting to be all together too much. Maybe he was having a stroke.

"Tateryna," she replied quietly, almost painfully.

"Very pretty. Where are you from?" his voice was quiet.

"His Greatness, Jabba the Hutt, bought me from the slave houses on Klatoonie."

"Slave houses?"

"Yes Sir."

"But, where are you from? Before the..." he swallowed hard, clutching his hands together forcing them to stop shaking. She could be Jaina, was all he was able to think of. Yes, his little girl was still a young child. But she would also always be his little girl. Just like this young woman shaking with fright and nerves, wrapped into a rode several sizes too big, was still someone's little girl. "Slave house?"

"My Family was from Borleias. My father was a government minister, responsible for trade."

"What happened? Hey, it's okay, relax and talk to me." Taking a tentative step, she perched cautiously on the end of the bed, away from him, and tucked her hands onto her sleeves. The action stabbed at his heart. Both Leia and Jaina did that when they were worried or scared. "How old are you?" _Keep her talking_, he thought, the poor thing looked terrified and wound up even tighter then he was.

"Nineteen, Sir. I have been in this place for three months." A tear escaped and tracked down her cheek. "My dad had a disagreement over shipping lanes or tariffs or something with the Empire. They sent him and my mother to a political prison camp in the outer rim. My younger brother was killed and I was taken to Klatoonie."

"Political prison camp?" He said snapped up. "What's that?"_ Leia. Maybe Leia was there._

The girl narrowed her eyes slightly in confusion.

"It's where the Empire sends all of the traitors. Once you go there, you never come out."


	31. Chapter 31

_AN: Have a good weekend. Cheers everyone and remember, reviews make the world a better place. :)  
>AN2: Yay! I reached 100 followers today! Thanks everyone!<br>_

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><p>"Well, that is a much more flattering explanation than the one I have been giving myself all these years." Leia remarked, hands tucked inside the sleeves of the sweater, protecting herself from something - him, he supposed.<p>

"And what was that?" Han couldn't help but ask, curiosity burning throughout his body.

"Well, I always suspected that you either had to kill me or love me." She answered with a brilliant, dazzling smile, turning to face him.

"Oh?" He leaned in closer, grinning at her answer.

"And killing me would have been more complicated." Finishing with a half shrug, she brought her sweater covered hands up to her face and breathed in deeply.

"I have to ask, what's the deal with you and that sweater. You have-" he waved grandly as if to illustrate a point, "thousands of credits worth of clothes and you choose to wander around in that thing all the time."

"It's not a '_thing_', it's practically a talisman, and I certainly don't wear it _all the time_. I only wear it at home. And here. And sometimes on holidays. And only once at work."

"Well, you wear it a lot is all I'm saying. Maybe it's time to get a new one."

"I know. I love this sweater. And I can't simply 'get a new one', it's not that kind of memory."

A sick feeling came over him. Shit. He'd put his foot in it again. It was probably her father's or a keepsake from a lover left on Alderaan. Shit shit. What was wrong with him. He kept doing this to her. Did he actually do this to everyone, but it was only now he started to notice? He wasn't sure which was worse.

"I got it from you," she said simply answering the unasked questions screaming around in his head, staring out into the vastness that surrounded them, either unaware of his inner turmoil, or unsure how to deal with it.

"I gave that to you?"

"Well, you will, and you did. It was a long time ago. I was cold and stubborn, and mad at you, and scared and, well, I was a lot of things."

"What was I?"

"Annoyed, mainly, I think." She giggled quietly, lost in thought.

"Kill you or love you kind of annoyed?"

"Yeah. Probably. Although, at that time, likely more the former. It wasn't one of our best moments."

He waited, watching her, studying the garment she wore, trying to place it. Wherever he got it from, he certainly didn't own it yet. Nothing about it looked familiar, but then there was very little left of it.

"We were on a long run, I didn't have anything except for what I had on me; completely unprepared and in the middle of nowhere. You were being your typical self; impossible and infuriating. I was so mad and you were fed up with me, with us, with the whole stupid trip. Anyway, you threw this at me one night when I was cold. I've had it ever since. A peaceoffering I suppose. In a way."

"That doesn't sound like the whole story."

"Perhaps not. But it's a long story and I'm very tired."

"We might not have much more time for it, if you don't tell me now, you know." _Great_, was he now actually begging her to spend time with him?

Leia smiled almost sadly. "I'll tell you tomorrow night. Tonight's just been, a little hard." Leia stood abruptly, moving around the chair to leave but paused and turned back to him. "You spent so much of your time saving me. I never noticed, I wish I had." Sighing, she walked passed him, "Goodnight." When she reached the doorway, Leia turned back to him, chin up again, smirking slightly, sadness gone for the moment, or maybe simply covered up. "And don't let me catch you in my chair again."

He winked at her before he could help himself and with that, she was gone.

**xXx**

What he really needed was sleep. But he couldn't make his body move away from the peaceful nothingness in front of him. There had always been something truly calming about space. His mind drifted to Bria. She hadn't liked space, hadn't taken to the feeling of it. She had found it dark and lonely. The more he tried not to think of her, the clearer she became. Floating in front of his face, red hair tangled and tantalizing. But she was gone, and he couldn't decide now if he was as devastated as he had been before. He had thought he loved Bria, but now... He shook his head sharply. No. He had seen what love looked like. Even, perhaps, felt it briefly in the last few days. He hadn't been that way with Bria. It had been good, but it had never been easy. Closing his eyes, he let himself float back to the apartment on Coruscant, remembering the pictures scattered on the shelves, the children's toys piled in the corner after being "picked up", the large old monastery window in Leia's office, all the hand drawn pictures under his desk, the art in the master bedroom, the feel of the sheets, Leia's hair, her laugh. No. He opened his eyes again to the darkness. Bria was nothing compared to that. He would meet her again, somehow, Leia had let that slip. But she didn't matter now. Not anymore.

His thoughts were interrupted by the cockpit door sliding open.

"I'm staying right here. Sorry." He answered the sharp growl behind him without turning around.

"No. I ain't moving and I don't that you don't really fit!" More growling followed by sharp gestures rained over his head. _Gripes_.

"Because I'm not allowed to sit there, that's why!" Silence followed by hooting laughter taunted him.

"Yeah, it's hysterical." He muttered rubbing a tired hand over his face, fingers lingering on the scar etched across his chin. He turned back to face Chewie, who was still chuckling above his head. "You know what! Laugh all you want Buddy. I'll bet every credit I'll ever have that you're next. She was spitting mad at me, and I only asked the question. You answered me. Think about that." The laughing halted abruptly. Han nodded knowingly at his friend.

Chewie motioned to the pilot chair and whined softly. "No, you're probably allowed to sit there." Chewie growled uncertainly and whined again.

"I don't know, I didn't ask - go ahead, wake her up. I dare you." Han threw his hands up; this was such a ridiculous conversation. And since when did he start taking orders anyhow? He looked back at the large wookiee behind him and chuckled at his worried expression.

"Ha. I can't wait to tell _my_ you that future you is scared hairless by a 110 pound woman who barely clears your chest."

"I'm not scared of her! Wait, am I?" Chewie nodded, growling that if Han knew just how scary that tiny woman could be, he wouldn't be laughing so hard.

"Well, I have undeniably great survival skills." They sat in silence for a while, lost in whatever thoughts each had. Han broke the stillness, shifting in the seat to pick up the pilot gloves resting up by the viewscreen. They would fit him. Perfectly. It was eerie. "I'm sorry I asked. It wasn't my place."

Chewie sat unmoving for a while longer. Pondering something, staring off into the distance.

"I love her," Han whispered. "I know I shouldn't. But..." His jaw clenched and he looked down to the gloves he held tightly, feeling the tough, batter leather between his fingers, tracing the small rip up the front - a knife wound, perhaps? "And I'm already sick of waiting for her." His friend hummed slightly at that. "Yeah, I know. I didn't want for this to happen. I didn't fall asleep that night knowing I would wake up like this. I expected to wake up with a headache and a sore face. I didn't imagine ever being married or crazier yet, being a father. I really don't know what-" the silent of the night was suddenly cut sharply in half by a full bodily, blood curdling scream from behind them, echoing down the hall from the main cabin, ripping through the ship like the sharp side of a knife, tense and terrifying.

Han froze, unbreathing for a moment and leap out of the seat, Chewie close behind him.


	32. Chapter 32

_AN: Happy 2014, Lovelies! _

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><p>An echo of the past swept across her. A trace of a memory which was dark and dangerous.<p>

Something was crushing her. Something suffocating and horrific.

Leia kicked, thrashing wildly against the blinding light threatening to engulf her.

She could hear him. She could _feel_ him.

Water swirled around her knees. No, not water. Sand. An ocean of sand. Fine and granular, it held her captive.

She screamed for him, again and again. But no sound came. An echo bounced back to her; a familiar laugh, a stench of death and evil.

All at once, she knew this place. A nightmare destination which had haunted Han for years.

Tatoonie.

**xXx**

Han couldn't sleep. And he couldn't relax. Every muscle in his body was tensed for action, for a fight for... something.

He sat on the cold stone concrete with his back against the door, watching the suns set against the clear blue sky. The window was small and unbreakable. He had already tried. There was nothing to do, nothing but wait. And the waiting was making him crazy.

Snoring and a small cough from the bed drew his attention away from immediate escape for a moment. She had fallen asleep almost immediately. He had kept her talking as long as he could, trying to gain any measure of information from her about her parents. What she knew, and where she had come from was fragmented, but at least it was something.

_Sith_. He pressed a fist to his forehead. Another complication. He really _really_ needed to get out of here - but now he felt responsible for this young girl.

He silently blamed Leia for this. Not that it was her fault - because it wasn't, not at all. But there was nothing else to do at the moment than to assign blame - and blaming his missing wife made him feel a little more connected to her. She wouldn't be able to just leave a young, terrified girl at the mercy of a Hutt crime lord (or anyone - for that matter) and whether this was real or not, he owed it to himself, his wife and even to his own young daughter to at least try to get her out of here.

_Sith_. He really had no plan and was at a complete and total loss as what to do next. Chewie and Lando would be back on board the _Falcon_ now, and he had no way of contacting them. Maybe they would be worried about him, he had thought in a moment of hope; perhaps they would try to get him out - like they did last time he was stuck in here. But, most likely not. Maybe this was normal. Bile rose in his throat. Maybe being here wasn't so strange. Jabba hadn't asked him what he wanted instead. _Gods_. Maybe he'd done this before. No. He couldn't imagine any alternate life in which he would enjoy this kind of company. He had always felt extremely uncomfortable and sorry for the poor humanoids tethered to Jabba's throne and handed off to friends and visitors. It had never happened to him before, but, he supposed, a lot had changed. Well, it was certainly never going to happen to him again, he would make damn sure of that.

A small cough came again from the bed followed by a muffled murmur which Han couldn't quite make out.

Could he maybe buy her? The thought made him feel even worse. He shouldn't have to buy anyone to keep them safe from a life like this. But really, what other option did he have. If he could lie convincing enough to Jabba about how much he enjoyed her, maybe he could work keeping the girl into the deal. He would at least be able to get her off world, and then, well, he'd make it up as he went along later. _No plan_.

The girl muttered again and cried out suddenly. She was being hurt. He had woken Leia up enough from nightmares to at least have an idea as to what this poor girl was dreaming about. He stood and crossed the small room, standing at the side of the bed, careful not to touch her, he called to her. "Hey, Tateryna, wake up." She stirred again and whined softly. "Wake up." He said louder, more sternly. Her eyes flew open and she scrambled frantically backwards away from him, before seeming to remember herself and freeze, large eyes unblinking, face flushed and breathing laboured.

"Hey, you're okay. It's okay. Just relax. You were dreaming, that's all. You're fine now."

"Sorry," she whispered and after a moment she cleared her throat and spoke louder, "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't. Hey, hey - it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I must have gotten cold," she said, so quietly it was likely to herself.

"You have nightmares when you're cold?" the girl nodded cautiously. "So does my daughter." Han offered her a calm smile. She seemed to perk up at this comment and slid back to where she has been sleeping in the middle of the bed, dragging the sheets around her protectively as she did so. "You have a daughter?"

"I do. I have a daughter and two sons. They're a lot younger then you, though."

"Are you married?" she asked with a small hint of accusation in her voice.

"I am. That's why I'm here. She was taken away from me, but I don't know where she is. I was hoping that slimy, nasty excuse for a living creature knew something about her. But, here I am instead."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." With a sigh he sat back down against the door.

"You know you don't have to sit there, right? You could come up here with me." Tateryna suggested, lowering her voice slightly and letting drop one of the corners to the sheet wrapped around her, exposing a shoulder.

"No thanks." Han ground out between clenched teeth.

"Don't trust yourself?" she whispered, letting the sheet dip slightly lower.

"Careful, kid. My make-nice is runnin' real low." he snapped. _Was this girl for real? After what he had just told her? _He really needed a drink. And Leia._ She would know what to do, either that or she would slap that smug-sultry look right off this girl's face. _That thought made him smile in-spite of everything. Yeah, Leia wouldn't put up with any kind of shit from this kid. Not at all.

"I'm sorry," she looked down, face heating and pulled the blanket tightly around herself again.

"Good. I need a shower." He stood, needing to be alone again and strode without another word into the fresher - locking the door securely behind him. To his surprise a real water unit stood gleaming in the corner; this wasn't something you usually found on a desert planet.

Shedding the clothes he had woken up wearing from what felt like days ago, he stepped into the unit and turned the dial. A readout appeared indicating fifteen standard minutes of hot water remained. Standing under the stream of near scalding water he began to formulate a plan.

And by the time the water timer had run down to zero, he had a rough idea what he needed to do next.


	33. Chapter 33

AN : Well I took my sweet time, didn't I? Sigh. Well, I've been working on something new, and it's consuming me!

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><p>Boots thudding heavily across the steel decking, Han rushed the several feet down the corridor from the cockpit as another soul-splitting scream ripped through the ship.<p>

"Leia!" He called, sliding to an abrupt halt outside the main cabin.

A hairy hand pushed passed him, shoving him hard out of the way and slammed down on the panel to open the door. Light flooded the small cabin, falling onto the shape of the slight woman curled into a ball at the side of the bed. Chewie's frame filled the room.

"Leia, wake up!" He called from behind the giant mass of fur in front of him.

Chewie growled low and barked. The small figure in the bed shot straight up, gasping.

**xXx**

Leia screamed for him. But no sound could be heard over the pounding of her heart in her throat and the rush of sand around her legs. She stood in the centre of a vortex, swirling and chaotic.

He appeared before her; haggard and angry. Yelling soundlessly at the laughing giant beyond her field of vision.

A cry died in her throat as she read his angry shouts. He was looking for her – screaming her name. She tried to move towards him, call to him while frantically flaying her arms. Nothing. He was beyond her. On another plain. She screamed again, desperate.

"Leia!" Her name called out of the shadows behind her. Light began to startle away the sobering image of Han pleading, mouthing her name in front of her.

"Leia. Wake up."

She struggles back away from the light, trying fruitlessly to move towards the scene in front of her.

Han?

Then a familiar growling bark pulled her further still away. Her eyes flew open, "Chewie?"

She was safe. She was home. But the darkness still haunted her. It was very little comfort that she was here, alone without him, while somewhere he stood before a long dead creature, screaming her name and searching her out. The giant Wookie growled again.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Leia scrambled out of the bed to the fresher and hastily slammed the door behind her. Wrenching could be heard from inside the small compartment, Han moved towards the fresher, only to be stopped once again by Chewie who instead issued a small bark.

"I'll be out in a minute. Don't come in here!" she added sharply. Chewie shook his head and growled a low warning to him. Clearly, she had done this before. And very clearly, Chewie knew how to handle her.

She emerged a moment later. "That was... unpleasant."

"You okay?"

"No, no I don't think so. It was so real. It was horrible."

"What was is about?"

"You." Leia looked up at him, eyes wide and scared.

Han exchanged a look with Chewie, "Me?"

"Were you - before you came here - on Tatoonie, by any chance? Or, maybe, going to Tatoonie?"

"No, I was on Nar Shaddaa, I told you that already, remember. Why? Leia, you're really pale, do you need a drink or something?"

"So, if you weren't supposed to be on Tatoonie, why are you there?"

"I had no plans to go there. At least, not so soon."

"And why are you _you_?" She ignored him, stood and started pacing, Chewie sighed and sat heavily on the bed - he'd obviously been through a Leia-meltdown before as well. It struck Han again as he watched his friend's steady study of Leia, how little he really knew of them now. "If the you from then is now here and you look like the you from now, shouldn't the you from now - my you - look like the you from then? Unless, you haven't switched places. Unless you didn't go back, maybe you went somewhere else."

"Then, where did I - he - go?" Han asked quietly, not entirely intending to say anything aloud.

"I don't know. But you were there. At his palace, and so was he, and… Sith." She sat, resting her forehead on her hands. "I just want him home." She whispered.

"Well, we're close to that. Set to land in just over an hour."

"Good." She nodded, glancing up over at him, set locked and eyes set.

**xXx**

It was refreshing, in a strange unnerving sort of way, how with everything completely different and upside-down, that this place had remained almost untouched. Scorch marks burned angrily across the crumbling, faded walls of the hanger bay. But, Han admitted, nodding in silent agreement with himself as he and Chewie set the _Falcon_ down perfectly on the assigned pad, it was nice to finally be somewhere familiar - even if it was _here_.

Leaving Chewie to shut her down completely, Han strode down the corridor to engage the ramp when Leia pushed passed him, moving him bodily out of the way before she crouched and lifted the locking hidden release for the compartments under their feet. Gripping the edges of one sheet, she eased it aside and hopped down into the smuggling compartment, disappearing completely for a moment before a blaster was hurled through the opening and fell heavily to the decking. Another followed rapidly after followed by the top of Leia's head. He watched her struggle for a moment before reaching down and grasping her under the arm, lifting her carefully up beside his feet on the steel decking. He watched her check the weapon's charge and turn it over a few times, inspecting it.

"You sure you can handle that?"

She raised a sardonic eyebrow at him as she rose and slid the holster around herself, buckling it low - almost seductively so - across her hips. "Yeah. I think so," she replied dryly. "Let's go, Flyboy," she threw the comment across her shoulder as she slid by him once again, keying the hatch and lowering the ramp.

**xXx**

The air here was thicker than Leia remembered, it took several breathes for her lungs to agree with her. It took even longer for her nose to ignore the horribly arid stench which wafted freely through the air. A stomach-turning blend of waste, death and desperation.

"This place gets better every time I'm here." she muttered to no one in-particular, while cutting her gazed quickly across their path. Han had taught her, well before she wanted to listen to anything he said, that in places like this, one eye wouldn't cut it. "An eye isn't half enough, Sweetheart" was what he'd actually said. The quote ran through her head and made her smile. She had repeated his words back to him the first time she had abandoned him for the evening with a new baby and twin toddlers. He hadn't found it as informative as she had, though.

The familiar mechanical noise behind her along with the low woofs from Chewie as he bent his head to converse with Han made her turn around.

"Mutiny," she whispered under her breath, but didn't move. She cocked her head towards them and two sets of eyes widened at her in fake innocence. She knew that look. That was the "we should let her run the show for a bit" look. Leia narrowed her eyes at them and watched as Han stride up to her.

"Since this is your party, I'll play along. What do you have in mind?" He asked coming to stand beside her, head turned away from her, giving off an arrogant air of disinterest. Logical in a place like this, but still rather infuriating.

"That's the easy part." She replied flippantly. "Find the witch."


	34. Chapter 34

AN : Well I took my sweet time, didn't I? Sigh. Well, I've been working on something new, and it's consuming me!

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><p><em>Easy<em>? He wanted to gape at her, _Easy! Really?_ Just find a crazy old hag in a dead-beat, rotting underbelly of a city full of crazy old hags. _Yeah, sure. No sweat._ Well, that may be all well and good for the future Han Solo. A guy who was clearly far more together than he was - that guy married a Gods-damn princess for siths sake. but for a lowly pilot who didn't even have a ship? It all seemed a little too... something.

Leia stood beside him, and out of the corner of his vision as he nodded along with her velt-shit crazy idea, he noticed her eyes narrowing slightly. She knew he thought she was being ridiculous. _Damn_. He turned to face her squarely and slid into his best nonchalant act. "Alright, Sweetheart," he gestured in front of him towards the docking bays massive doors. "After you."

**xXx**

The only real issue with her plan, Leia conceded silently, was that it wasn't _really_ a plan. It was exactly where they needed to start of course, Vilma was the key - or at least part of the key - in solving this insane problem. However, Leia mused as she dodged a pile of filth which looked rather suspicious, finding someone wasn't an easy thing in a place like this. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so bitchy, caved and brought Luke along. Banishing the thought almost immediately, she shook her head as she ducked under a hanging mass of fried cabling. He would have sided with Han and Chewie almost instantly - all boys together - and she would have had to tag along after them and save their asses all the time. Just like old times, she muttered. No. This was much better. They were willing to let her act out her half-ass plan, and had been surprisingly silent about it for the last hour or so.

Slowing to a halt at the dimly lit doorway, she looked back to make sure they were in fact still behind her, and ducked quickly into the dark foyer. The droid behind the duraglass crackled to life and asked her for credits.

"I need Nikkie," she said without preamble. "Now."

"I'm afraid I cannot-" The droid started.

"I said now." she raised her voice slightly higher.

A large shadow appeared in the doorway behind the droid.

"Solo?"

"Nikkie." Leia broke into a smile, as Chewie growled a greeting behind her.

"Gods! I never thought I would see you again - switch off D5 - let me get a look at you, my dear!" The heavy-set middle age man slid with surprising ease through the small entry behind the desk and tottered over to her. Han's hand crept down to his blaster, she saw the slight movement and turned quickly to him with a small shake of her head.

"I need help Nik. I - I mean we - need a place to stay for a few nights. We cant stay on the _Falcon_, you understand."

"Of course, of course! What brings you here? Is Luke with you as well? Han! My lad! How are ya? Chewie, you're keeping this one safe I hope." Nikkie nodded at her, and she resisted the urge to throw her arms around his neck and cry.

"We're all fine, Nik. How are you? How are things here? We hardly ever hear anything. I wasn't sure you were even still here."

"I'm here until I die, Beauty. Business is good, not as good as before mind - but I wouldn't change it. How are your children? They're not here I hope." Nikkie glanced up and around behind Han and Chewie, tilting his head slightly.

"Oh no, no of course not. Can you imagine? I'm not that bad of a mother!"

"I never said you were, but the last time I saw you, you were, well..."

"Well. I'm not pregnant and I certainly wouldn't come here towing three small children along, unless I had to - I suppose."

Nikkie nodded and squeezed her hand. "I'll get you your keys and we'll catch up tonight."

**xXx**

"Who," Han whispered as they climbed the steep set of stairs to the sixth landing, "the hells is that Nikkie guy? And why the hells are you so friendly with him?"

Leia sighed. "Don't be like that."

"I'm not being like anything. I just want to know how you know him, that's all."

"You're being jealous."

"I am not."

"Nikkie and I go way back."

"I can see that. Why?"

"I know him through work."

"I doubt that," Han muttered, and Chewie made a low warning noise.

"Oh really? Well, since you seem to be such an expert on my life, I suppose you must be right. It wasn't work related at all. We were lovers. Torn apart by war. It was awful." Leia rolled her eyes at him and fished the keys out her jacket and unlatched the first door. Stale air wafted from the room and Chewie pushed passed her - flicking the lights on to full and stretching.

"Excellent," Leia muttered. "We're married."

"What?"

"This is Chewie's room." Leia sighed, gesturing to the small suspended hammock in the corner and tossed the key card at the wookie. "We're one more up." And with that she turned to leave.

Han stared after her for a moment and with a shrug at his friend, followed her.

"Seriously, Leia. Who is this guy? Can we trust him?"

"He's my friend. And, unlike _you, _I _only_ have friends I can actually _trust_. So yes, he's fine."

"Okay, well the war-divided lovers story is bogus, so how do you know him?"

"I met him through you, actually. During the Fifth Kessel mission. He's - or rather he was - a member of Black Sun. Wedge's campaign liberated him from Kessel and you got him back to _Home One_."

"Black Sun!"

"Keep your voice down. Yes, Black Sun. He helped Corran get out, that's where he lost his eye."

"Can you start over? I feel like I'm missing something. This guy downstairs - who you are all buddy-buddy with - is a member of an-"

"Ex-member," Leia interrupted, fighting with the the lock.

"Fine," Han reached around her and took the key from her, and wrenched the door open. "Ex-member of an elite galactic organized crime network who is friendly enough with you to call you 'my dear'? How do you know someone like that?"

"That's big talk for an ex-smuggler turned-rebel who married a princess and heads up a branch of the military." Leia cocked an eyebrow at him as she moved into the dimply lit room. "You wanted to help him, so you brought him back - he wasn't on the original list. But, well, he lost his eye..." Leia trailed off, dropping her small travel bag on the bed and sitting down heavily. "You helped him because he was a pilot. And a good man. It was my idea - kind of - the Mission to Kessel, so in a way, I felt responsible for what happened to him. He couldn't fly anymore. I had taken that from him. I kept thinking of you - how you wouldn't likely survive not being free like that. So we helped him fade out and set him up here. There's more to it of course - but we really don't have time for a full history lesson, we should go down and see what he knows."

"Why does he call you 'Solo'?" He called back from the fresher.

"Because I am a Solo."

"You know what I mean," Han pulled the wrinkled shirt over his head and splashed cold water on his face.

"That's how you introduced us," Leia smirked, leaning against the door frame, watching him. "You didn't trust him, and you certainly didn't want him to know who I really was. So, in your typical brilliance, you introduced me to him as your wife. I thought it was rather presumptuous, you thought it was hilarious. He found out of course, but I've always been 'Solo" to him. Can you hand me my comb please?"

Han reached over, liberated the comb from his bag - why was it in there? - and tossed it to her, grabbing the towel off the hook and drying the water now running down his throat. He watched her pull her hair free from its binding and run her fingers through it. His hand itched to mimic that motion, like he had days ago. But, of course now things were different.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head and replaced the towel. He had been staring at her and was now slightly embarrassed. "Do you want to call back to the kids tonight?"

"I think we should. I'll see if we can borrow this comm. I really don't want to have to find my way back here from the bay in the dark again today."

"We'll need dinner too. Anything you know of close?"

"There are a few places, lets chat with Nik and see if he knows anything about the witch first though, but-." She finished her work, pulling her hair into a messy braid which across her one shoulder and a loud knocking interrupted her. Han pushed passed her and snatched his blaster off his leg, clicked it over and swung open the door.  
>Nikkie stood in the hallway, hands held in front of himself, good eye trained on the gun in Han's hand. The other eye, Han noted was missing entirely. He hadn't noticed before. Leia had said she felt responsible for that, and now, looking at the aging pilot before him, Han could see why. His eye hadn't been lost, as Leia had put it, it had been <em>taken<em>. No stray blaster bolt of shard of metal had done this. A large still-raw looking hole gaped where his eye had lain. Drilled out somehow, for whatever reason. A grisly job - not generally the way of the Imperials. Someone had wanted his man out of commission, and considering what small details he had just gotten from Leia, Black Sun would be the highly likelihood.

But why?

"Han, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Good to see you haven't lost any of your edge."

Han stayed the blaster as the other man continued. "If you both haven't eaten, I was going to order in."

Leia stepped behind Han and laid a small tentative hand on his bare lower back. "Nik, it's been a long day, we're both a bit jumpy. Dinner sounds great, we'll be right down."


	35. Chapter 35

_AN : Oh boy. Here we go folks. Have a good week! R&R!_

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><p>Dawn rose brightly through the high windows of the cell-like room.<p>

The shower had cleared his head, and after reassuring the poor young girl, who he now felt responsible for, that he did in fact have a plan, it was almost showtime.

He had argued with an imaginary Leia for most of the night, debating the finer points of his plan with his missing wife. It very likely meant he was slowing going crazy, but it also made him feel better, so he couldn't have cared less. Imaginary Leia had rolled her eyes a lot at him, and sitting propped up against the foot of the bed, that made him smile. She had hounded him insistently about the layout of the palace, where Obi-Wan's old house was in relation to where he was now. Drilled into him the terrain variations and small patches of moisture farms which littered the landscape. Imaginary Leia didn't seem to think he would be able to calmly extract himself from this nightmare, and she was likely right. Leia was so much more a planner then he ever would be.

His gut twisted. It had now been over forty eight hours since he woke in this "life". He wondered, absently, touching his broken nose again gingerly, just how long it would take until he actually did go crazy. Not long, he assumed. A man could only be expected to tolerate so much before he finally had to snap. And sitting here, covered in sand and dust, missing his children with no idea where his wife might be, he knew he was dangerously close to a tipping point.

The room was a disaster, as per the 'plan', his boots were scattered and he was now missing a shirt as well. They figured, logically, if he was in fact a "favourite" of that stupid slimy slug, he might be able to barter for Tateryna. At least he could get her off of this Gods-forsaken hunk of rock, maybe even find her work, surely he must have contacts somewhere. He could put on a good show of liking the girl, it was worth a shot at least. Imaginary Leia wouldn't let him consider not bringing her along.

Activity could be heard in the hallway, but it was a while before anyone came for them. Finally though, the door swept open and two large guards stomped in. Tateryna had been sleeping fitfully on the bed and was now scrambling up towards the headboard. Han was fairly certain she would stick to the story. She seemed terrified - with rather good reason - and he prayed that her terror would translate into silence if nothing more.

The larger of the two guards stepped towards the bed and motioned for the girl to get up, she hesitated a moment too long and was yanked off by the upper arm. She gasped and whimpered pathetically. Han nodded at her, encouraging her to go with them, not to make a fuss. She gathered her feet under her and stood meekly in at the door. Han took him time, pulling the unfamiliar shirt over his head and looking for his second boot. The guards stood stoically, as if use to this behaviour. The thought made his stomach turn. _No_. He though, grabbing his missing boot from the other side of the room and yanking it on. There is absolutely no way he would never stoop to doing this kinda thing; Leia or no Leia.

The reception chamber was a buzz with activity when Han entered some time later, still flanked by the two guards. The girl had been whisked away from him, led back down a dark passageway; a passageway Han remembered stumbling down half blind and frozen. The memory made him shudder. This was all too much for him. Jabba wasn't there, the throne stage was empty. His guards abandoned him at the doorway with a heavy push and he was left to stand, a stranger among a sea of unfamiliar faces, in a space which he never had any intention of stepping foot into again.

A small hand landed on his arm and he spun, fists curling in quick reflex. He had no blaster, and pulling it would have been a bad idea anyway.

The figure standing in front of him was small. Her hand, old and worn, still rested on his arm.

"Pilot." She said simply. Her voice was so familiar. He said nothing, brain searching through every dingy memory of this place, trying to find her in a lost corner.

"Pilot." She repeated, more a question this time.

"Vima." Her name came to him in a whisper. He knew her. And she knew him.

"Pilot." The old witch repeated once more, a confirmation of sorts.

"Where is she?" Han breathed, desperate. If this woman still knew him, then maybe she knew what happened to Leia.

"Your lady?

"Leia. Where?"

"She is waiting for you, Pilot." Han resisted the urge to grab the frail old woman. His hands, still balled into tight fists, shook slightly.

"Where?!" He hissed, forcing his hands to uncurl with great effort.

"Not here. Pilot." She said, almost sadly.

"Please. Where is she?"

"You needed to know. With her. _And_ without her." The riddles were becoming more then he could bear.

"Know what! Where's my WIFE!" He growled sharply, and grabbed the sleeve of her robe. Heads near him swiveled to watch the spectacle he was currently creating in the middle of an long-dead crime lord's audience chamber.

"Hush. She is not here."

"Then where? If she's not here, then where is she? I need to find her." He couldn't force himself to calm down, _bloody witch_, she very obviously knew where Leia was.

"No, Pilot. You cannot. She is not yours."

"Not mine." He repeated, his grip slackening and he stumbled back. The lack of fists thinned the small audience and the attention he had gathered a moment ago was dissolving. The old woman continued to regard him unmovingly. Seeming to not care about his current state of turmoil.

"You needed to see." She said finally, quietly. Realization slammed down on him suddenly - _she had done this to him_. _To them_.

"You! You did this!" he hissed, jaw twitching.

"You needed to see." She repeated.

"You filthy witch. I knew! Don't you think I've always known? You've taken her from me to teach me... what!?" He demanded quietly, bitterly, angrily. "That I needed her? That I wasn't good enough for her? That I didn't deserve _any_ of it? You don't think I know that? I've _always_ known that!"

"No, Pilot." the hood of her rode moved as she shook her head.

"Then WHY!" He demanded, advancing on her again. To her credit, he thought mildly, she didn't back down, only stood staring up at him calmly; albeit, sadly.

"To see what might have been, and what could still be."

"What do you mean, what could be." He asked, air burning his lungs. She was dead, she had to be. His skin flashed hot, burning crawled under his hands. What was this? A warning? Some kind of Force dream? Luke had those. But he thought only Jedi could do that.

"Do you not know, Pilot? You asked me once. I told you. Do you still not believe me?" She was mocking him, and it made him angry.

"I have no-" _Oh_, he stopped short, he did remember. A faint memory, a haze of drink and darkness. An alley and a haggard old woman. Years before Leia, in the heyday of his loneliness which he had convinced himself he liked.

"Where is she?" he asked again, hands still hot, even as a cold numbness sealed around his heart.

"You love her."

"Of course I do, I have for years. I've loved her since I first met her. Is that what you want! You can have this!" He cast an arm out to the side, exaggerating his point. "I don't want this, are you listening to me! I'm not some stupid twenty-something anymore, you hag! I'm a father. I'm _her_ husband. I love her! Where is she? Where are my kids! I don't understand what you want from me!"

"No. But you will."


	36. Chapter 36

_AN : Showtime, folks. _

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><p>"What do you need me to do?"<p>

"Listen."

"To what?" he demanded. This was useless, he was - and had always been - a man of action. He needed to act. Now.

"Can you not feel it, Pilot?"

Han could feel nothing but cold panic. It started in his stomach, crept with increasing severity, cirling his heart and and coming to rest in an icy stillness behind his eyes; his head hurt, his lungs burned and his heart skipped. What had he done by doing nothing? He had always teased her about it, that he had saved her; all along knowing his was wrong - she had saved him. In every sense of the word. But perhaps, standing here in his nightmare, they had saved each other, his part an immediate and overwhelming task. Hers though, had always been a slow, seductive dance. She made him want to be more than what he was - even when he pretended to hate her. She shaped him into the man - the person - he had always _wanted_ to become. Everyday. Even now.

"She needed you, _they_ needed you. But you didn't understand. She still needs you, Pilot."

She turned to walk away from him; he grabbed hold of her hood, yanking it back.

"Help me! Where is she!" He demanded. The throne room was starting to fill. Jabba would be out soon.

"I warn you." Her voice broken and deep, eyes fixated on his face, although, not seeming to really look at him. She was looking beyond him. He knew that look. It gave him the creeps. "The woman you seek is not the woman you will find. Nar Shaddaa. That is where you must go to change things." She finished and glanced wildly around her, eyes still unfocused.

"She's alive?" Relief swept over him, tightening his chest, there was hope, then. How for how long, he didn't know. His legs ached, wishing to move.

"Hurry." She whispered, almost desperate and he let go of her cloak, pulling himself straighter, jaw set.

Change things. All a little late, wasn't it? Best he might be able to do was get Leia off whatever rock she was on. Then what? Float around with her forever? He would stake his life that she would have no idea who he was, and what was he supposed to do with her then? She'd likely be just as stubborn and selective. She wouldn't _want_ to come with him - and he certainly didn't want to _have_ to kidnap her _again_. The low vibrating hum of the hoversled rumbled distantly down the wide hallway to his right. Showtime. Imaginary Leia was right, he had no plan.

The dull, strangled hum of the sled was behind him now, grinding unhappily along, supporting the massive being resting lazily on it. He needed to turn or risk angering the enormous pile of slime. He nodded, holding her gaze until it focused back from where ever she had been a moment ago. Then, she was gone.

Han's body thrummed. Breathing low and shallow, as if lining up a difficult blaster shot from long range. He was wasting his time.

Teeth gritted against the rhythmic choking laugh, he smiled as best he could and nodded an acknowledgement at the crime lord, steadily avoiding the wretched creature tethered to his side. If he looked at her, he would need to save her. _What was it with me and risking my neck to rescue random women,_ he wondered, waiting for the throng of well-wishers, grovelers and hangers-on to dissipate enough for him to approach the Hutt. Standing in the amphitheater, with familiar smell and taste of the place swirling across his brain – he launched back and forth between countless memories. All seemed – somehow – to involve Leia. Many didn't, most taking place long before they had met, but still, somehow she was there. A smile, a roll of her eyes, her chin tilting up in just that way.

The crowd thinned being by being, as the endless string of human and aliens moved to the outskirts of the large room. All avoided the grate, laying menacingly on the floor. Han had missed the excitement last time, and wasn't eager to witness it now, keeping a wary eye on the slow moving limbs attached to the large Hutt commanding the attention of so many. Luke had told him about it later, of course, over a beer in the hanger one evening while he tinkered with the _Falcon_. Repairing some of the scale damage she had taken in the Endor campaign at the hands of Lando.

Leia hadn't really spoken about her stint in the stinking Hutt-hole he once again found himself in. She had been happy to have him back, and he didn't push the issue. They also spoke very little about his absence – it ws too hard on the both of them. Han hadn't realized, not until much later, the toll it all had taken on her. Only after their time on Bakura, did she trust him with small admissions again. She let him into that part of her world. The shadowed part which wasn't always in control, wasn't always good and straight and honest. The part which made her leave the Rebellion, give up everything she had fought for, suffered for, bled for. Put it all aside. For him. He hadn't known, not even at her surprise in the briefing, that she wasn't told of his joining, his rank as General. But of course she hadn't. She had left – for him. And they had made her pay for that lack of propriety, her lack of responsibility. Kept in the dark and steered out of important issues for months, they had punished her for loving someone; him.

It had made him angry. They expected too much from her. They always had.

Jabba's booming voice cut through his thoughts and it was his turn for an audience.

Customary small talk was exchanged, that part hadn't changed a bit, and was still very much one sided as the Hutt only wanted to hear Han's thanks and gratitude for the night with the slave, the honour of his presence and so on. The words grated his throat, and he felt mildly sick again. Jabba waved off his thanks, and promised him more.

"No, Jabba. No more." The giant Hutt blinked at him. "I don't want money," Han corrected quickly. He calculated the idea of lying to the slug, but for everything Jabba was, he was not a fool. Nor was he entirely unreasonable. And, Han argued quickly again with his imaginary wife, he might be willing and able to lend him a hand. "I need help. I'm looking for someone. A woman."

Jabba laughed at this and pulled on the leash attached to the neck of the small girl resting unhappily beside him. "No," Han forced a smile, "Not like that. This is important."

The giant Hutt watched him for the span of several heartbeats - heartbeats Han counted, as he was sure after each one, his heart would simply stop - then gave a quick order. The hall buzzed and emptied quickly, leaving Han alone to face the creature who had tormented his dreams for so many years. "I may have found her. I have a lead on Nar Shaddaa." Han half explained.

Jabba countered him, mindless petting the young girl's hair as he spoke. "I know." Han had to agree. It _was_ a long shot.

["Who is this woman?"]

"She's important." he hedged. Jabba asked a series of questions, large eyes moving and narrowing as he did so.

"She's," Han paused. _Stag_. He didn't know how old his was. What had Lando said? Twenty years since Alderaan. His gut wrenched. Twenty years, the twins would be eleven, and Anakin nearly ten. _Gods. How? What could have possibly been more important than them, than Leia, than his life with them?!_ Abruptly, he remembered where he was, and who he was speaking too. _Money_. The answer was simple. That was what Vima had said. And again he hadn't listened to her. Money. Chewie had said that too, starring down at his paws and picking at an imaginary spot on the console. Money. Luke hadn't been able to pay him, cash upfront. So he had turned him away, and in doing so, had thrown the rest of his life away too. _For money_.

"She's in her late thirties. I need to find her. All I know, is that about twenty years ago, she was held prisoner by the Imps on the Death Star. I don't know what happened to her after that." The reality of what he had done, and who he had done it to fell upon his shoulders. His babies. His wife. His best friend. His whole life. He had killed them all by not even entertaining the possibly of something bigger than his own ambition, his greed and his selfish existence.

["Twenty years is a long time, Han my boy."] Jabba reasoned, closely watching his reaction.

"I know." But he had to try.

Jabba grunted and swiveled his sled towards the door, motioning for Han to follow. They had walked in silence for several meters when Jabba spoke again. "Leia," Han answered, all but whispering. "Her name is Leia."

["I have a connection on Nar Shaddaa. He is working to solve an… issue for me. I will ask for this too."] Han nodded.

[Who is this woman?"]

Han warred with himself. He couldn't, simply could not, bring himself to tell Jabba who she really was. And what would he say in any case? _Oh, she's just the last surviving member of the Royal House of Alderaan. A princess I should have rescued, fallen in love with, married and had three amazing children with. Hardly._

"A ghost. I thought she was dead. But, maybe..." he trailed off. It wasn't exactly a lie and Jabba - for the meantime - let it slide.

["Go then. I'll call my connection. He will help look for this 'Leia'."]

"Thanks, Jabba. I owe you one." _Wow, flashback. _Imaginary Leia shook her head in warning, but he didn't have time to argue with his subconscious, he had his real Leia to find.

Jabba laughed heartily at this. "One more thing," Han turned back suddenly remembering his promise this morning. "The girl. I want her."

Jabba's eyes bulged and he laughed again, small arms flailing around erratically in mirth.

[The girl! You want her too. Of course you do! You had fun?"] Han forced another smile, slightly tight and lopsided. ["Ha!"] Jabba continued, motioning for him to go. ["Fine. I like you. Take her. She's been here a while anyway."] Han bowed this time, thanked the Hutt again and walked as fast as he dared towards the entrance to the palace. He had no commlink - of course you don't, why would you? imaginary Leia taunted him - so he couldn't even call ahead, let Chewie know to prep the Falcon. A high pitched cough came from behind him, and he turned slowly, lessening his stride. A pale twi'lek was ushering a small person quickly towards him, she was wrapped loosely in an ill-fitting cover and her feet had a fraying pair of boots covering them. _Oh right. The girl_. Stag. He really didn't have a plan. The twi'lek chuntered several fast sentences, all of which Han couldn't catch, and pushed his new charge into him and was off.

"Okay, come on." Han sighed. Women were going to be the death of him, he had already made his peace with that years ago when Jaina had been about a week old. But he would much prefer it to be one of his women. Not a random stranger. He'd make her Lando's problem as soon as he could. It was a good bet Lando owed him a few favours - and even if he didn't, Han couldn't quite care. He had enough on his plate without towing some poor bedraggled creature across the galaxy.

**xXx**

The _Falcon_ was exactly where he left her; shut up tightly a couple hundred feet from the palace entrance. By the time he and Tateryna got to her, the ramp was lowering and a laughing could be heard over the gathering dust storm.

"Alright," Han strode on board, his newest problem trailing slowly behind him. "Take a seat," he pointed at the girl. "And don't touch anything. Chewie, hurry up! We're leaving." He stomped off quickly to the cockpit – a man on a mission.

What should I do?" The girl called out after him.

"Don't touch anything and sit down." He repeated loudly flopping down in the pilots chair with Lando and Chewie close on his heels.

"Who the hell is that?" Lando pointed to the closed door of the cockpit.

"That, is now your problem. Her name is Tateryna, she's from Borleias and she needs a job. An actual legit-ish job."

"My problem! _My_ problem? Seems to me - she's really your problem. You brought her here, you deal with her." Lando stabbed an angry finger in his face.

"No. I have enough to worry about. I'm dropping you both off on Nal Hutta. Think of something. She's yours."

Chewie growled and started the takeoff sequence.

"No, We're going to Nar Shaddaa." His co-pilot said nothing, only exchanged a glance at Lando. "Because I'm the Captain and this is my ship. If I say we're going to Nar Shaddaa, then that's where we're going. Alright!?" Lando shrugged and stood – bracing himself against the back of Han's chair. It was something his friend hadn't done in years, and it unnerved him. That spot didn't belong to Lando. It didn't belong to anyone – it was Leia's, and it took everything in him not to tell him to move.

Chewie whined calmly as Han lifted the _Falcon_ off the sandy hell hole he swore he would never come back to again.

"It's important Chewie. I need to go there."

The company was silent until they cleared atmosphere. Han keyed in the coordinates for the jumps to Nal Hutta and sat heavily back in his chair. Chewie barked, quieter this time, and waiting for the cockpit door to shut behind the retreating form of Lando.

"Because I have a really bad feeling about it."


	37. Chapter 37

_AN: Happy weekend!_ _And HOW is it the end of January ALREADY!? _

* * *

><p>How could he have forgotten the loneliness of this place? The street, thick with humanoids and creatures of all descriptions, flowed passed him, a river of size and smell. Perhaps so many years on the never-sleeping upper level of a city, where nightfall was an arbitrary daily ritual which relied heavily on auto-dimming glass and window shades, had softened him to the darkness which to shrouded this shadowed underbelly of his past. Even space had a certain lightness to it - thousands of planets, home to countless beings, all spread out before you at your fingertips. He had liked the dark, hid behind it. But now, forced into the future of a life he had turned his back on, the darkness was sadly poetic.<p>

Han walked without knowing where he should be going. Jabba had given him no indication as to who or where he should be to meet this contact of his.

He glanced up, as he usually did when everything started to feel too small. Glanced up to look out at the stars, at the future.

There were no stars from here.

He had forgotten that as well; the incredible darkness of this lost world.

His chest constricted tightly. Jaina loved stars.

They would lay together in her small bed, staring up at the galactic star map he had gotten for her at her last birthday. Thousands of individual pins which he had pressed into the ceiling of her room, softly illuminating the space and giving rise to her imagination. She always had an endless supply of questions for him - what star was that, who lived on that planet, how old was that sun - and together they mapped daring hyperspace travel through the tiny points of light. He would tell her stories of adventures; strange places and species which he had seen or simply myths and folklore from travels he had taken. She loved it. And so did he.

Han heaved a deep sigh, trying in vain to press his rapidly hammering heart down into his chest. Now was not the time to panic. Now was a time for action. And at least in that, he was able to feel like he was moving forward, away from this never-ending nightmare.

Chancing a quick look back at the darkened doorway he had passed; nothing moved and the eerie silence rang loud in his ears. It was never silent here. He's neck tingled. He was being watched.

Perhaps leaving Chewie to watch the _Falcon_ hadn't been the best of ideas. A watched ship was a valuable ship. He knew that, nothing had changed in that regard and logic dictated the Falcon be left along, unmanned and unmarked. But, truth be told - he hadn't wanted to haul his friend into the messy deranged business of tracking his lost princess through the seedy underbelly of this gods-forsaken part of the galaxy.

Chewie would inevitably think he was going insane. Either that, or blame him for the selfish twist this new world had spun them in. Either way, his friend was painfully right.

Brushing a quick hand across the familiar blaster strapped to his leg, he suppressed the urge to spin around. It was too open here, if there was something brewing, better it be away from too many curious prying eyes. This morning left like years ago. A quick stop at Nal Hutta to drop Lando and the newly released slave girl off and it was just him and Chewie again. It felt better, he could breathe easier without an audience. Lando had been looking at him sideways for the passed few days and it was getting up his nose.

The short jump from Tatoonie had been uneventful. He had locked himself away in the cockpit for the entirety of the journey. Chewie's grumbling and Lando's assumed need to know what was going on was driving him insane. As soon as the jump was made he had ordered them out of his sight; suggesting to Lando that he might as well go meet his newly acquired responsibility - and to find her some clothes while he was at it. the drop at Nal Hutta was fast, Han promised to be back for them in a few days - hoping of course that he might actually just wake up and not need to find them after all.

Chewie had been rather quiet as Han shut down the _Falcon_ in the familiar hanger bay. There was an uneasy tension between them, and it had started when he had asked about Luke and Obi Wan. Had Chewie wanted to help them? And if so, did he hold Han responsible for the events which followed that horrific mistake. Could his partner comprehend the depth of destruction his inaction and greed had caused?

And now, walking alone through the darkened dirty streets, the small speck of hope which bloomed when he left Jabba's was starting to dissipate.

This wasn't going to be easy.

Han turned sharply down an alleyway and lengthened his stride without quickening his step. He needed to try to prepare himself for what kind of state he would inevitably find Leia in. It was true, what Jabba had said, twenty years was a long time. His jaw clenched again. He had woken her up from enough painful heart wrenching night-terrors to know the threats leveled against her during her incarceration. All manner of horrible futures were thrown at her. Death, work-camp slavery, lobotomization, forced containment at one of the low level pleasure camps strewn across the Imperial sector, disfigurement, isolation. The list was horrific and endless.

Tortured images of her flashed through his mind. All painful. Half real and haunting. The crying he had so rarely seen, strong and stubborn as she was. The screams he had woken to since before he had awoken beside her. Her wide dark eyes, silent and scared, unblinking and fighting to remain in whatever position of control she could find.

Han growled low. How would he find her. And when he did, who would have to pay for what they had done to her.

"Solo."

His name was called from behind him, a mechanical static sound which stopped his heart and wrenched him back to the present - temporarily out of bloodthirsty vengeance and anger. Of course. This was the contact, the agent. The person who he now depended on to help him, was the second last person he ever wanted to run into again. His stomach rolled and his palms tingled with nervous energy. Sadly, he knew, this was fitting. Of course this was how it had to be.

He turned and leaned against the blaster scored exterior wall behind him, feeling the rough masonry cladding

"Fett."


End file.
